


Still Into You

by Dylangasmsforusall (En_Kelleher)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: And More Fluff, Character Deaths, Child Abuse, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Paramore's "Still Into you" cuz it's one of my favorite songs ever, Kid!Fic, M/M, Major Stilinski feels!, Mama Stilinski is in parts of this too!, Ooooh yeah and this is totally a slow build kind of thing!!, Panic Attacks, Papa Stilinksi is an angel, Starting off in John's and then moving through, Stiles and Isaac are soul mates!, Trigger warnings:, actually there will totally be tears, as in they're children at one point in this fic, at least thats what im aiming for here, but most are later on, canonical character deaths, definitely some self-deprecation, except child abuse cuz it's just starting out but in the sidelines so we dont see that, growing up together is what dreams are made of, human!AU, i dunno, major feels and all, maybe they'll eventually have babies, multiple POVs, no, probably some self-harm like thoughts, some not-so-nice language, there might possibly be some tears as things progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:23:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/En_Kelleher/pseuds/Dylangasmsforusall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John's best friend's son's, his godson's, teacher makes a call and children and family services is called, John's super surprised to see the bruises littering Isaac Lahey's skin.  John had never even thought Mike Lahey capable of harming his child, but the evidence was clear and John needed to step up.</p><p>Or, the time when the sheriff took an abused 6yr old Isaac home to his wife and son because his best friend abused him and he was responsible for the child as Godfather; also the time Stiles and Isaac were childhood soul mates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Not A Walk In The Park

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darkangle102](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkangle102/gifts).



> This little idea came from the wonderfully flattering darkangle102! There needed to be more Stisaac in the world, and maybe my writing is good enough to quench the thirst I have, and many others do, for the ship. 
> 
> There are trigger warnings for child abuse, panic attacks, character deaths, and some language stuff. Also, in the next chapter, it'll get pretty dark.
> 
> This isn't going to be some fic based purely on fluffy feelings and stuff, okay, I want something realistic and gut wrenching.
> 
> And I greatly appreciate feedback! So, please leave some comments or kudos or what have yous!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

John Stilinski had only been the Sheriff of Beacon Hills for a couple of months when John’s best friend’s son’s, his God son’s, teacher called made a call to the California Department of Social Services, Children and Family Division, John was incredibly surprised to find the bruises that littered his god son, Isaac’s, skin. He had never thought it possible that Mike Lahey could ever lay hands upon a child, let alone his own child. However, the evidence was clear that _someone_ had put their hands on young Isaac in a harmful manner, and it was John’s job as both Isaac’s godfather and the Sheriff to protect people.

With the help of Child and Family Services, John set up the interrogation room where Isaac was asked a series of questions by the detectives and child psychologists about where his injuries had come from. John had pulled Isaac’s medical records, even going so far as to pull Isaac’s recently deceased brother’s records as well, to see if Isaac had made any trips to the emergency room for injuries. And even though a part of him didn’t want to believe what he saw, he did note that several times Isaac had went to the emergency room for broken bones, cuts, or scrapes that could easily be explained away by a young boy just being a rowdy boy and rough-housing.

The psychologists and detectives came out of the interrogation room with somewhat grave faces, their eyes holding a little more fire than what would come from an interview with no evidence of child abuse. John sighed as he ushered the ladies in to his office and sat them down to speak with them about Isaac’s case. “What did you find out?” John asked with a weary tone, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Mr. Stilinski,” the psychologist started off with a sigh as she moved to sit in one of the chairs in John’s office, “Isaac has indicated that his father has, indeed, been leaving those marks on his body, though, he was very adamant that his father hadn’t done it on purpose.”

“But isn’t that usual behavior for an abused child?” John asked as his eyebrows caused wrinkles along his forehead. He was too young for those kinds of worry lines.

“Yes, typically,” the detective nodded as she stood against the wall with crossed arms. “I understand that you are Isaac’s god father?”

“Yes, ma’am.” John nodded.

“And you have never seen Mr. Lahey acting roughly with Isaac?”

“No, ma’am.” John shook his head, “but, then again, usually if I’m around, my son is playing with Isaac. They’re only about five months apart in age, and they like playing out in the yard when they’re together.”

“Right,” the detective nodded with a sigh, “Well, we have firm evidence that Mr. Lahey has been abusive and neglectful towards Isaac, and as his god father, since there aren’t any other family members to be spoken for, Isaac can either stay with you, or be sent to a foster home immediately—“

“He can come with me.” John interrupted almost immediately, shaking his head as he moved to stand up. “There’s just a conversation that I need to have, and an arrest to make.”

The detective nodded as she pushed off of the wall. “I will, of course, have to accompany you to the residence of Mr. Lahey. Mrs. Duncan will stay here with Isaac, filling out the necessary paperwork, while we’re collecting a few of his things, and …attending other official matters.”

John nodded as he looked down at his desk with a sigh, “Can I speak with Isaac before we leave?”

“Of course,” the detective nodded with a small inkling of a smile.

John nodded again, moving from around his desk and heading out of the room. Turning to his left, he headed down the hallway towards the interrogation rooms. Looking through the glass of the first room on the right, John saw Isaac sitting at the cold metal table, a packet of crayons and a piece of printer paper in front of him to draw on while he waited with another, younger, woman with light brown hair.

He stepped in to the room and Isaac lifted his head of bouncy blond curls to look at John, his face breaking out into a grin, “Uncle John!” He jumped up off of his chair and bounded across the room, wrapping himself around John’s legs tightly.

“Hey, buddy,” John pushed his fingers into Isaac’s curls before he pulled him away enough to squat down to eye level. “How’re you doing, kiddo?”

“Can’a go home yet?” He asked, looking exhaustedly into Johns eyes as he reached out his little hands, messing with the buttons on John’s Sheriff’s shirt.

“Well, y’see, there, kiddo, you can’t go home.” John told him, frowning a little bit as he wrapped his arms around Isaac’s body loosely.

“W’not?” Isaac asked, blinking a little bit owlishly at him.

“Well, you remember the questions that the nice ladies asked you about your bruises?” John asked, continuing once he got a sleepy little nod from Isaac, “okay, good. See, since your daddy was the one who put them there, you have to come stay with me and aunt Jules.”

“But daddy di’n’t mean to,” Isaac told him with big sad blue eyes.

“I know,” yet, John didn’t know. There were too many bruises and medical treatments for broken bones for it to be accidental, “I know, buddy, but it’s just what we have to do, okay?”

After a moment of thinking about it, Isaac let out a small sigh and nodded, sniffling slightly on his next intake of breath. John didn’t enjoy seeing children cry, especially those he loved. He pulled Isaac into the v of his knees and hugged him close to his chest. “I just have to go pick up some of your things, okay? And then we can go home and you can play with Stiles for a little while before you two go to bed. How s’at sound?”

Isaac just nodded as he hugged John in return, holding on possibly a little tighter than he would have normally. John sighed, pulling back and placing a soft kiss to Isaac’s forehead before he nodded at the young woman across the room. He picked Isaac up and set him back in his chair in front of his crayons, “how about you draw aunt Jules a pretty picture for the fridge, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

John pressed his lips to the crown of Isaac’s head for a moment before he finally pulled himself away and headed out of the interrogation room, a steely resolve falling over him.

**+++**

The meeting with Mike Lahey didn’t entirely go down as well as John would have hoped. Mike was unruly and unhelpful. He had even lashed out to strike the detective with the DSS, who was still a law enforcement officer and therefore, striking her would only tack on the charges for him. John had to physically restrain his _best friend_ while the detective moved in to Isaac’s bedroom and gathered as much of his things as she could in the duffle bag that John had in his trunk. He realized, then, that maybe his friend wasn’t the same man as he used to be.

John understood that loosing people that you loved, like a son and wife in a terrible car accident, could change who you were down to your pivotal core; but, he didn’t understand how it could change his friend so much that he would beat on a six year old child. John supposed that he’s made from a different material, then, because he didn’t think that anything would ever change him enough to find the urge to strike _anyone_ let alone his wife or child. Children, now, since Isaac was now in his care.

John and the detective drove back to the station with Mike cursing up a storm in the backseat of John’s cruiser. John studiously tuned him out, thinking that if he _ever_ had the urge to strike someone, it was now, listening to the man that had beaten his sweet little godson. He simply clenched his fists around his steering wheel and drove as fast as legally possible to get Mike out of his sight before he really did return the favor and beat the living shit out of a man he once called best friend.

Once they’d reached the station, John hauled Mike through the doors and shoved him on to another officer, telling them to book him and put him in to holding until his transfer to county in the morning could go through. He thanked the detective, signed some paperwork for taking Isaac in to his care, and turned to go get Isaac.

When he walked in to the room, Isaac was barely awake as he attempted to finish up the drawing for John’s wife, Julia, to hang on the fridge. Peaking at it as he moved into the room, John deemed it finished enough and rubbed a hand over Isaac’s back. “Hey, kiddo, you ready to head out?”

Isaac startled a little bit, thankfully not scrubbing the crayon in his hand across the paper, and looked up at John with semi-bleary eyes. He nodded, though, and went about putting his crayons into the box on the table. Once he’d done that, he moved over to the sweet young woman who had been sitting with him and held them out for her, mumbling a shy little “thank you, ma’am” to her and then moving back over to John. Isaac lifted his arms up, clear in his intent.

John smiled faintly at the exchange, leaning down to pick Isaac up and cradle him to his chest with Isaac’s cheek on his shoulder. “Thank you, Ms. Daniels, for sitting with him while we handled business.”

“You’re welcome Sheriff. It was my pleasure; he was a delight to spend some time with.” Ms. Daniels replied with a sweet, caring smile as she gathered up her things. “Oh, don’t forget his picture.”

“Ah, right,” John smiled his thanks and reached out a hand to pull the picture from the table as he cradled Isaac’s bottom with his other. 

Turning, John carried Isaac out of the interrogation room, holding the picture between two fingers as he held on to Isaac with both arms, hugging him tightly to him. He glanced around to make sure that Mike wasn’t in the near vicinity before he moved over to thank the other two ladies for their help. When he’d finished talking with them, John picked up the spare booster seat that he kept in his office for what he deemed Stiles emergencies and made his way out to the cruiser. He buckled in the booster seat and Isaac before he closed the door and slid behind the wheel, heading back to his house.

**+++**

Upon entering the house with a konked out Isaac in his arms, Jon looked around to see where his wife was before he walked around the house to find her. When he heard giggles coming from the bathroom upstairs, he chuckled softly and headed up to find his wife chaperoning Stiles as he splashed around in the tub.

“Jules,” John spoke quietly so that he didn’t wake Isaac up.

Julia looked up from where she was giggling at her ridiculous son and his bubble beard and hair to see John holding Isaac with a world weary expression on his face. She stood up immediately and moved out of the room, letting Stiles play in his bath while she closed the door enough so that he wouldn’t hear their conversation. “John, what’s going on?”

John leaned forward to press a light kiss to his wife’s lips, just like he always did when he came home from work; only this time there was a small child between them. He looked down at where his hand rested on Isaac’s back, rubbing soothing circles that he didn’t entirely realize he was rubbing. Then he saw the drawing between his fingers and smiled faintly, holding it out for his wife to take.

Seeing the drawing, Julia was momentarily distracted, a smile on her face before she looked back up at her husband with a tiny frown, “John, what’s going on?”

“Mike’s been arrested.” John replied, keeping his voice just as soft as his wife’s, trying to make it just as soothing as well, but, well, he figured he was failing in that aspect.

“What?” Julia’s eyes widened as she looked at Isaac, “why?”

John chewed on the inside of his cheek, clenching his jaw for a moment before he moved the hand rubbing at Isaac’s back to lift up the child’s shirt. Along his back was a splattering of bruises, all differing in age and how much they’d healed; ranging from dark purple, almost black, to the light yellow green of nearly healed. He kept his eyes on his wife’s face as she dropped her gaze to look at the bruises along Isaac’s back.

Julia’s hand slowly lifted until her fingertips were gently pressed against her lips, her eyes welled with a light wetness of tears. Prying her eyes away from Isaac’s back, she lifted her amber eyes to look in to John’s before her expression hardened, “Mike did this?” She asked, her voice deceptively calm.

John simply nodded his head, shifted Isaac a little bit until he could reach out his free arm and pull his wife against his side, holding on to her shoulders tightly as she pressed her face against his collar bone. “Yeah, babe, he did this. There’s no other family around, and, well, he’s our god son. He’s been arrested for child abuse and neglect, as well as assault of a law officer.” 

“Oh my god.” Julia sighed against his collar, slipping an arm around his lower back and holding on. “So, we’re going to take care of him.” She didn’t ask it as a question, and John might have fallen in love with her even more in that moment than he already was; which was completely and irrevocably.

“Yeah, baby, we’re gonna take care of him.” John pressed his lips to Julia’s forehead for a moment before Stiles let out a squeal of ‘moooommmy’ and the sweet moment was completely lost.

**+++**

In the morning, John woke up to the feeling of being stared at. Now, it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to that, because Stiles would sometimes do that, too, just watching him until he got fidgety enough to start whispering “daddy” at small intervals until he managed to pull John from his slumber. But since it was a quiet staring, John knew that it wasn’t Stiles standing there staring at him this time. It was just out of the ordinary enough to make him just the slightest bit uncomfortable, causing him to roll a little more onto his side from where he was sprawled on his stomach.

Cracking one eye open enough, John could see messy blond curls in his sleep hazed vision. “What’s up, kiddo?” John asked with a voice gravelly from sleep.

“Breakfast,” Isaac replied with a slight ‘w’ sound where the ‘r’ was supposed to be. 

John smiled sleepily and nodded. “Alright. Breakfast.” He pushed himself up, holding out his hand for Isaac.

The small boy slid his hand in to John’s and John hauled himself out of bed. Keeping his hold on Isaac’s hand loosely, John walked out of the bedroom, stifling a yawn as he rubbed his free hand over his eyes to wipe the sleep away. They moved quietly through the house, trudging down the stairs to head in to the kitchen.

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, John could hear Julia singing quietly; and when the two of them entered the kitchen, he spotted his wife with a sleepy looking Stiles poised on her hip, holding her spatula for her as she poured some more pancake batter into the frying pan. She moved around fluidly with their son on her hip, moving like only a practiced mother could, as if having Stiles on her hip didn’t hinder her movements the slightest bit.

God, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Even with her hair still a complete mess from sleeping, all tangled and frizzed out from the pillow case and blankets. Even with her tacky penguin pajama bottoms and John’s old BHPD academy t-shirt hanging off the shoulder Stiles was practically sleeping on. Even when she was dressed so, with her bare feet tapping to the song she was singing and her fingers drumming the beat on Stiles’s batman-pajama-bottomed bum, she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Keeping his hold on Isaac’s hand, John moved up behind his wife and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, mumbling out a “Morning, Beautiful” against her skin before he moved over to grab his favorite mug, already sitting on the counter, to fill it with coffee.

“Morning, baby,” Julia responded without missing a beat in her song, watching John fill his cup with a fondness of true love. “Breakfast’ll be ready in a minute.”

“Alright,” John nodded as he lifted his cup of coffee and took the first caffeine rich sip with a small hum of approval. Once he was feeling more awake from guzzling his first cup of coffee, John refilled his mug before he lead Isaac over to the kitchen table, sitting down and pulling him up into his lap. Seeing a glass of orange juice on the table, he reached for it, sliding it over to Isaac so that he could sip on it while the waited for breakfast to be finished.

Soon enough, Julia was bringing over a large plate of pancakes before stepping away from the table and grabbing the plate of bacon and the bottle of syrup. Setting them down, she leaned to brush her lips over Isaac’s curls and then John’s forehead before she turned to grab the orange juice from the fridge to replenish Isaac’s cup and fill one for Stiles, who was still halfway asleep on his mom’s shoulder. When she finally moved to sit Stiles in one of the chairs, Stiles blinked awake with a not-so-small twitch, looking around the table all blearily.

“S’time to eat, sunshine.” She told him, brushing her fingers through Stiles’s disorderly brown locks, attempting to smooth them down and failing miserably.

“S’brek’fuss?” Stiles mumbled, his words slurring together in a completely adorable way. John could feel his insides melting at the utter adorableness that was his kid. He got that from his mother, who was equally as eloquent when she was tired.

“Yeah, kiddo, so eat up, okay?” He said with a small chuckle, standing up to slide Isaac into the seat across from Stiles, pushing him up so he could reach the table.

Stiles’s attention snapped at the sound of his father’s voice, his bleary eyes snapping over to John and lightly up. “Daddy!” He seemed instantly more awake as he scrambled up to stand in his chair, holding his arms out towards John with little grabby hands.

 

John laughed softly, moving over to let his son wrap his arms around his waist, hugging him tightly as he bent a little to press a loud smack of a kiss to the top of his boy’s head. “Morning, kiddo.”

“Daddy! Mommy sed dat we gets to keep Isaac! S’at true!?” Stiles asked, suddenly exceptionally excitable for it being so early in the morning. Actually, John wasn’t entirely sure what time it was. He’d been up late with Julia, discussing the situation they’d just been flung in to.

“Yeah, Stiles, that’s true. Isaac’s gonna be staying with us for the foreseeable future. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah! Dat’s so cooolll!!” Stiles grinned widely, jumping up and down in his chair a little bit. “We haz him ‘n dat’s so cool!”

John laughed softly again, shaking his head as he brushed his hand over Stiles’s hair. “Alright, sit down you fool. We’ve gotta eat up these pancakes that mommy made.” John widened his eyes at Stiles, snorting when Stiles immediately widened his back and dropped down heavily into his chair.

John looked over at Julia, who was pouring the boys some more juice, and shook his head. They shared a look of ‘he’s your son’ with identical fond smiles curving their lips. John moved over to the counter, fixing his wife a cup of coffee just the way that she liked before refilling his own and sitting down at the table. “Alright, let’s eat!”

When the phone rang halfway through John finishing his breakfast, he moved over to the phone and answered it, “Stilinski,” in just his usual way. He usually answered the phone as such since it was normally the department calling in the morning. If it wasn’t the department, people who called were used to John answering the phone as such considering his job.

_“Sheriff, we’ve got some news about one Mr. Michael Lahey?”_

“Go on.”

_“Mr. Lahey was murdered last night in holding.”_ The voice over the phone relayed.

John frowned, glancing over at the table where Isaac was giggling as Julia wiped some syrup from his face. “What happened?”

_“Apparently there was a young man that Mr. Lahey had accosted at some point in the past in holding for possession. With the grudge apparently still in full force, Lahey was assaulted and beaten to death before any of the officers on Duty realized what was happening and could open the cell up to break up the fight.”_

“Well, shit.” John sighed out before he thanked the officer on the phone and set it back in its place on the counter. Glancing over at the table, John struggled with how to break it to Isaac that his dad was now with his mom and brother.

 

**+++**

The time that Isaac spent with them quickly became more of the hectic mess that John was more accustomed to. Isaac was quieter than Stiles by far, but Stiles made up for their different talking habits by running his mouth excitedly whenever he had the chance. John and Julia would sit next to each other on the back porch with a cool drink and listen and watch the boys play in the back yard, almost glowing in the setting sun, whenever John had the chance to get off work early enough to witness it. He loved those quiet moments with his wife, sitting with her in his arms, leaning back against his chest as they watched the boys play in the yard. He loved being around the three of them probably more than anything else in the world.

Isaac quickly became a part of their family, even though there were still nights when Isaac would wake up screaming. John and Julia tried desperately to console him, but it usually wouldn’t help any. John figured it was probably because an adult was the one who had abused him, and the thought usually pissed him off enough that he had to step out of the room to get away from Isaac’s frantic, hiccupping cries. It usually only calmed Isaac down to have Stiles crawl in to bed with him, wrapping his little arms around Isaac and hugging him tightly.

The two boys would fall asleep like that, Isaac’s face covered in tears and snot, flushed from crying and screaming so hard. Stiles with his arms wrapped tightly around Isaac as Isaac burrowed again Stiles chest and clutched to him like a life line. It broke John’s heart to see Isaac so distraught on a regular basis, only consoled by another child who had no idea what was really going on, only that his friend needed the comfort that his mom and dad couldn’t give. It broke his heart that he couldn’t be the one to comfort Isaac. Broke his heart that it had to be Stiles.

He and Julia would lie awake in their bed sometimes and talk about it; their voices hushed whispers in the dead of night as they pretty much wrapped themselves around each other. Julia would speak softly about how sweet it was that Stiles would be so selfless as to wrap himself around Isaac and let the boy cry uncontrollably on him, just holding on as if he were literally holding Isaac together. John couldn’t help but agree, but he voiced his concerns about putting such a weight on Stiles’s shoulders. Both of the boys were only six years old, after all, and neither child should have to deal with that.

They whispered of maybe becoming Isaac’s legal guardians, all officially since he was orphaned now. They decided that they would, indeed, make it official. They loved Isaac as much as their own son; and clearly Stiles loved him as well, if his tendency to wrap himself around the smaller boy for comfort was anything to go by. He’d never complain about getting woken up by screaming; he simply crawl out of his bed and stumble until he was crawling up in to Isaac’s bed and curling around the crying boy tightly.

“I thin’ they’ll b’good together,” Julia mumbled one night, just this side of sleep. John wasn’t entirely sure if she meant being brothers and living together, or if she was talking about something else entirely. He just hummed his agreement and pressed a kiss to her forehead, tightening his arm around her and letting sleep overcome them.


	2. I need the other one to hold you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Okay. So, I only read through this once, so, all mistakes found are mine. I think I'll see why I only read through once.
> 
> I really struggled with this one. Not only because the shit hit the fan thursday for my family, but because I was having maaajoorr problems with the content of this chapter, haha, but, uh, you'll see.
> 
> Just remember that I _do_ love you all, and, uh, yeah.

Julia Stilinski was completely blessed. She had a wonderful, loving husband. She had a beautiful lively son that could brighten up her day with a simple smile. She had a quietly attentive godson that always knew the right moment to wrap his arms around her in a tight hug just to make her feel better.

Since the Stilinksis had taken Isaac into their home, Julia hadn’t been happier. She loved all of her boys like her life depended on it. Through the years, Isaac had come out of his shell a little more than he had been. Where he was unusually quiet when he’d first come to stay with them, over time, Isaac pulled out of himself and became just as lively as Stiles was; yet, maybe not quite as much, considering Stiles was usually everywhere, or trying to be everywhere all at once.

When the boys were eight years old, pushing nine, Julia got a call from the elementary school. Apparently, Stiles had punched another student right in the nose. Completely baffled as to why her son would ever hit someone else, Julia got in to her car and drove over to the school, prepared to actually be an authority figure and punish Stiles for his actions. He just couldn’t go around hitting other people, that was for sure. At the very least, she was ready to give him a firm talking to.

Until she walked in to the office and saw Stiles sitting next to the door with tears silently sliding down his face. She moved over to kneel in front of him, her eyebrows pulling together. “Stiles, baby, what’s going on?”

“Mama, I didn’t—“ He sucked in a hard breath. Apparently seeing his mom only made him feel worse because he buckled in on himself, crying quietly into his hands.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay-“

“Mrs. Stilinksi?” The principal was standing in the doorway to her office, a stern look on her face. Julia had to force herself not to laugh at how cliché the woman was making herself look.

“yes?”

“Could you please join me in my office?”

“uh, sure.” Julia leaned to press a kiss to the back of Stiles’s head, since that was all she could reach with Stiles buckled in on himself like that. “Sit tight, pumpkin.”

Standing up, Julia walked into the room with the principal and sat down once the woman waved her to do so. “What happened?” She asked, her tone worried. It wasn’t very often that Stiles cried, so, this was upsetting for her.

“Stiles initiated a fight earlier this morning with Jackson Whittemore.” The principal replied, her voice hard.

Julia arched an eyebrow at the woman’s tone, not entirely liking it at all. “And what makes you think Stiles initiated it? He’s not a violent child, Mrs…. Gibson.”

“Well, eye witness accounts confirm that Stiles was the one to hit Jackson first.”

“Eye witness—You sound like you’re trying to be a cop here.” Julia scoffed a little bit, “and you’re seriously lacking. I have the _sheriff_ come home to me every night, and he’s more intimidating in his sleep.”

“Mrs. Stilinksi, fighting, at this school, is punishable by suspension at the very least.”

Julia sent the woman an unimpressed expression. “Well, if you’re going to suspend my son, then you might as well do it, because, if he _was_ in a fight, then I guarantee you that he had a pretty damn good reason.”

With that, Julia stood up from her seat and moved over to the door, pulling it open. Walking out of the office, she moved over to Stiles and took his hand, “C’mon, pumpkin, we’re gonna head home, okay?”

“Wh-wh-what about Isaac?” Stiles asked, looking up at his mom with a wet face and tear-filled eyes.

“Isaac’ll have to wait until the school day finishes, babe.” Julia told him, reaching down to wipe Stiles’s cheeks with her thumbs. “C’mon, you can tell me why you hit this Jackson kid on the way home.”

“Mrs. Stilinski?” The principal’s voice came from the office doorway once again.

Looking back, Julia didn’t even grace her with an answer, just lifted a questioning eyebrow at the woman. Mrs.Gibson sighed and pointed at Stiles. “Two days suspension.”

“Oh, good, he’ll get a four day weekend, then.” Julia put on her best, smarmiest smile and led Stiles out of the room. Once they’d picked up Stiles’s bag, she led him out to the car and settled in for the drive home. 

But before she turned the car on, she looked over at her son, staring at his lap with a guilty expression on his face, and asked, “Stiles, babe, why did you get into a fight?”

Stiles was quiet for a moment longer before he sniffled a little bit, peaking at his mom from under his lashes, “J-Jackson was making fun of Scott n’ Isaac.” He mumbled, picking at his fingernails restlessly, “S-said that Isaac was a piece of crap with no one who loved him and a dead family…. Th-then said that Scott’s dad walked out on him and his mom because of him. Kept saying all kinds of mean things, mama, and it made me so mad.” 

Stiles lifted his head to look at his mom full-on, his jaw jutting out in defiance. “I didn’t do nothing wrong.” He told her, his amber colored eyes still wet but definitely burning with defiance. “He deserved to be punched in the nose for what he was saying about Scott, and ‘specially about what he was saying about Isaac. Cuz he’s got people who love him. Cuz we do!”

Julia just kind of sat in her seat and stared at her almost-nine-year-old son, her lips slightly parted as she looked at him. She then burst out in to a brilliant smile and reached across the console to smooth her fingers through Stiles’s hair. 

“You, my sweet boy, are an angel.” She told him, leaning to press her lips to his forehead.

“Wh---You’re not mad at me?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows almost jumping into his hair line. “Really? But I got into a fight? Are you gonna tell dad? Because he’ll prolly spank me for getting into a fight, mama.”

Julia laughed softly, “I’m going to have to tell your dad about this, babe, but I’m going to tell him exactly why you got into a fight, and he’ll see it the same way I do, okay? You’re just protecting the people that you love. To me? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Really?” Stiles asked, still watching his mom with wide eyes.

“yeah, baby, you’re my little hero.” She grinned at him before she slid the keys into the ignition and turned the car on.

**+++**

Over the next few months, Julia had gotten several other calls about Stiles being disruptive and inattentive in class. Each time that Julia was called up to the school, Stiles would be sitting outside the principal’s office with a guilt-ridden expression on his face. He hadn’t cried, though, since the first time that Julia had been called. He’d explained himself and his remorse for being a problem in class, but according to him, “I can’t help it, mama.”

Julia had sighed each time, reporting the news back to John every time that she she’d been called or had a letter sent home with Stiles or Isaac (since Stiles may or may not have kept the letters to himself at first). The two of them would sit down at the kitchen table while Stiles was up in his room with Isaac doing homework and discuss what they thought the problem was.

“You think he’s acting out for the attention?” John asked, rubbing a hand over his face.

Julia reached out, wrapping her fingers around John’s other hand. “No, I really don’t. It doesn’t seem like he would be bad in class just for attention. You’ve seen him around here, John, he’s not a bad boy. He’s just got so much energy.”

“Maybe we’re not strict enough with him-“

“No, don’t say that,” Julia shook her head. “He’s not a bad kid, John. He’s just excitable and he’s got a little bit of a problem focusing from what his teachers tell me. Maybe… Maybe we should get him tested for Attention Deficit Disorder or Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.”

John looked over at her for a little while, weighing through what she’d said to him before he nodded with a heavy sigh. “Alright.. We’ll have him tested.”

“Good. Maybe it’ll sort this whole mess out.” She smiled at him, getting up from her chair to press a light kiss to John’s lips as she moved towards the kitchen to pull the things out that she would need for dinner.

**+++**

Having Stiles tested turned out to be a hassle in and of itself. Julia had to call around until she found a doctor that would take their insurance. It’s not that they had bad insurance; it was just that not a lot of doctors in the Beacon Hills area took it. She ended up having to drive a town over in order to get Stiles tested for ADD and ADHD.

She and Isaac waited in the waiting room as Stiles went back to speak with the doctor, proclaiming that he was a big kid and he could do it himself. Julia had just laughed and nodded, sitting back down next to Isaac and picking up the magazine she had been looking at before Stiles had been called back.

Julia wasn’t sure how long that Stiles was back with the doctor, but when Stiles emerged from the back of the offices, he looked a little bit annoyed. Julia just sighed and moved over to the doctor once she called for Julia to have a word. Walking in to the office, with the boys under the supervision of the receptionist.

“So, what’s up, doc.” Julia asked as she moved in to the doctor’s office, a small smile on her face.

“Well, Stiles definitely has ADHD. It’s probably a very good thing that you brought him in when you did. His academics may have suffered if things had been drug out any longer. He mentioned that he was bored most of the time when he was in class, other things catching his attention.”

“Alright, so what do we do now?” Julia asked, her eyebrows furrowed up slightly.

“We’ll start him off on a certain dosage of medication to help him focus on things instead of having his mind wander around so much. The Adderall will also calm his fidgeting a good bit and help with the mood swings.” The doctor smiled slowly, “he’ll probably be less likely to get in trouble in class for doing things that he’s not supposed to be doing.”

“Alright….” Julia sucked in a small breath and let it out slowly, “Alright. We can do this.”

“We’ll start him off with an extended release capsule so that he’ll only have to take it in the mornings when he wakes up. If he’s given it too late in the day, don’t be too alarmed if it causes problems sleeping.”

“Alright….” Julia nodded, chewing on her bottom lip as she watched and listened to the doctor closely. “So.. I just pick up this prescription and we’re good to go?”

“Mhm. Good to go. I’ll want to see him in three months to see how the treatment has been going, assess the situation and the medication dosages, but I don’t feel like we’ll have a problem here.”

“Awesome. Thank you so much for seeing him on such short notice.” Julia stood and held her hand out for the doctor, a warm smile on her face.

“No problem, Mrs. Stilinski. I’ll send the script up to the receptionist in a moment and then you’re free to go once you set an appointment for three month’s time.”

**+++**

Julia and the boys were in the kitchen making dinner and cookies later that evening. She was laughing delightedly at her boys, watching Stiles talking animatedly to Isaac while he waved the spoon with the cookie batter around. One good swipe through the air and Isaac had a splatter of cookie dough covering his face.

“Stiles!” Isaac shrieked, unable to stop the fit of giggles that followed getting mauled by cookie dough.

Julia laughed loudly, watching Stiles flail even more now that he’d flicked his spoon too hard and sent cookie batter all over Isaac’s face. “oh, Stiles, baby, calm down, sweet heart, you’re gonna make an even bigger mess!” Of course, her words were disrupted by her giggles as she moved over to the boys where they sat on the counter. 

Picking up the end of her apron, Julia moved to brush the cookie dough off of Isaac’s giggling face, shaking her head at her son. 

“Mama! Mama! I totally didn’t mean to do that, but did you _see_ that?! It was sooo awesome!” Stiles sped through on one breath, managing somehow to push all of those words on one tiny breath that he’d pulled through his giggles.

**+++**

The whole cooking debacle turned in to a ridiculous cookie dough fight, leaving all three of them in a fit of laughter when Julia heard her husband walk through the front door.

“Jules? Boys?”

“In the kitchen, babe!” Julia called out, her giggles ringing through the room as the boys basically sprawled all over her from the kitchen floor.

When John walked in to the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks, a comically shocked expression on his face. This only caused Julia to laugh harder, the boys following at the sound of her laughter. She knew that they were a complete mess of cookie dough, flour, and probably some other ingredients; but she couldn’t find it in her to really care about any of that. She was having one of the most fun moments of her life, playing with her boys and hearing their high pitched uncontrollable laughter. It was like music to her ears.

And judging by the look on John’s face, morphing from the comical shock to the smoothest, most relaxed look of complete adoration, he felt the exact same way.

**+++**

Two months from the cookie dough incident, Julia was doing her own breast exam in the bathroom. She could feel a hard-like lump along the side of her left breast. She was interrupted from her worrying by the sound of Isaac pounding on the bedroom door. “Aunt Jules! Aunt Jules! Come quick!”

She took a moment to feel along the lump one more time before Isaac’s cries and pounding got louder, “ _Mama_!!! Stiles fell out of the tree in the back yard!!”

Julia immediately pulled her shirt down and yanked the door open, her eyes wide, “Wha-“

“He fell o-outa the three! H-His arm doesn’t l-look right!” Isaac sobbed into her stomach, his face bright red and his eyes bright with tears and worry.

“Okay. Okay! Come on, let’s go see what’s going on!”

Once Julia had yanked Isaac up off of the floor (and surprisingly, he was easier to carry than she would have thought), she made her way out of her bedroom and down the hall, taking the stairs as quickly as she could without injuring herself and Isaac in the process. She set him down at the bottom, since it seemed like he’d gotten his sobbing under control.

“Where is he?”

“O-on the g-ground.” Isaac answered, taking her hand tightly and pulling her through the kitchen and out of the back door, which was standing wide open on its hinges. She could hear Stiles’s warbled cries of pain before she even stepped out of the house, causing her heart rate to sky rocket.

Once they reached Stiles, where he was sitting on the ground with tears streaming down his face as he cradled his arm against his chest, heaving out rough breaths through his sobbing, Julia dropped to her knees and grasped the sides of Stiles’s face.

“Stiles, baby, lookit me, okay?” She attempted to keep her voice as calm and soothing as possible, but it was hard once she managed to get Stiles to uncurl from around his arm, seeing that it was already bruising. “oh, god,” she mumbled, hearing Isaac’s sobs on top of Stiles’s.

It made her want to curl up and cry as well, seeing her boys in so much pain, but she had to be strong for them right now. It was a necessity for her to keep her wits about her and handle the situation. And after a moment, she pulled her phone from her back pocket and pressed number one on the speed dial.

On the second ring, John picked up the phone, _”Jules? Jules what’s wrong? Is that the boys I hear crying?”_

“Oh, God, John.” Julia breathed a sigh of relief hearing her husband’s voice, warmth and calmness flooding through her. “I.. I need you to meet us at the hospital okay?”

_”What? What’s wrong?”_

“Stiles fell out of the tree in the back yard, and I need to get him to the hospital because I think he broke his arm.”

_”Wait, you think? Jules, are you sure it’s broken?”_

“Well, John, his arm is right here, and his hand is angled weird and I’m pretty sure that I can see the bones of his wrist a lot more than I usually can—YES I’m sure it’s broken!”

”Well, get him to the hospital, I’ll meet you there. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Julia hung up the phone, sliding it back into the back pocket of her jeans before she grasped the sides of Stiles’s face again, “Alright, baby, I’m gonna need you to be my strong boy and get up with me, okay? We need to make a trip down to the hospital to get your arm all fixed up.”

“N-no, Mama, No, I-I-I don’ wan’ get a shot! Don’ let ‘em gimme a shot!” Stiles hiccupped through his tears, shaking his head roughly even as Julia pulled him up off of the ground with gentle hands.

“Okay, baby, okay, I’ll tell them not to give you any shots, alright? I just need you to get up and come with me to the hospital. It’ll make the pain go away.” Somehow Julia managed to get both boys corralled up and into the car to head off to the hospital.

**+++**

Since she was already at the hospital waiting for Stiles to have a cast put on his broken arm and Julia’s earlier worry about the lump that she felt came rushing back once she knew Stiles was being taken care of, Julia decided that it would probably be in her best interest to make an appointment to have things checked out. She had too many people in her life that relied on her to be responsible about her health. So, while Stiles was getting treated by Melissa McCall, the mother of one of Stiles and Isaac’s friends from school, Scott, she spoke to a woman, arranging an appointment for the next week, and then waited for John to arrive as well.

Stiles had broken his arm in two places; any harder of an impact, he might have had a compound fracture (and Julia was exceptionally glad that she’d missed out on _that_ image to file into the memory bank). But, now sporting a bright green cast on his arm, Stiles basically needed to be carried out of the hospital by John. Apparently the doctor that attended to Stiles gave him something for the pain, which pretty much made him high as a kite. So, while John carried a drowsily babbling Stiles out of the hospital, Julia held on to Isaac’s hand and followed after her husband, the panic that had been slammed into her chest finally fading a little bit now that Stiles wasn’t crying hysterically or in pain.

Naturally, Stiles decided that he was starving when they made it out of the hospital. It was just about time for dinner, granted, but he was also high as hell, so John and Julia just looked on in barely veiled amusement as they decided to hit up one of the diners in town for some dinner. When they’d managed to get inside and have Stiles sit against the wall beside Julia while John and Isaac took the other side of the booth, Julia and John had to stifle their laughter at Stiles’s dopey antics.

 

“Mama…..Mama, I want this..” Stiles dropped a finger onto the menu, pointing to the picture of the waffles, “And this,” the pancakes, “and this,” the platter with eggs, toast, bacon, and biscuits. 

Julia couldn’t stop a small giggle from bubbling from her throat as she leaned over to watch Stiles point at all the foods, “you want all of that, sweetheart?”

“Yeah..mama… mama, I want _all_ the food.” Stiles turned his face up at her all blearily, “Oh! I curly fries!”

At that, John finally cracked, his hand barely muffling the sound of his laughter as Isaac leaned against his side, watching Stiles with a worried expression on his little angelic face.

“Alright, kiddo, you can get what you want.” John chuckled out, reaching across the table to wrap his fingers around Julia’s hand loosely.

“Cool.” Stiles nodded sleepily, smiling a crooked semblance of a smile as Julia shook her head fondly at him.

Once they’d ordered their food, including Stiles large buffet of sorts, it only took Stiles two bites before he made a small “blegh” sound and pushed his plates away from him. He kind of angled himself in the booth so that he was tucked in to Julia’s side. She just smiled softly and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, rubbing at his arm lightly as she ate her dinner and listened to the quiet chatter that John and Isaac had going on.

It took Stiles no time at all to pass out against her side.

 

**+++**

“Mrs. Stilinski?”

“Ah, yes? Dr. Perkins?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The nice young man nodded, reaching out a hand to shake with Julia. 

She sat nervous in the doctor’s office, her foot tapping out a random staccato. She settled down minutely once the doctor had sat down behind his desk, sifting through a set of papers; but once it took him a little while to gather his thoughts, Julia’s foot started its little tap dance again.

“So, um, what’s the verdict?” She asked, trying for an easy humor but probably ending up sounding wrecked with nerves.

“Well, the results of your tests came back, Mrs. Stilinski—“

“Can we please just not sugar coat this?” She asked, her eyebrows knitting together as she twisted her fingers up in to knots in her lap.

“Mrs. Stilinksi-“

“Obviously, there’s something going on, so, can you please just give it to me straight, doc?”

“It’s breast cancer, Mrs. Stilinski.” The doctor replied, the look of concern on his face suddenly making Julia feel very ill to her stomach. “You have breast cancer.”

**+++**

“Jules, what’s going on?” John asked while the two of them were sitting on the back porch watching the boys play in the yard, running around and swinging sticks like swords even though Stiles’s arm was in a cast.

“I went to the doctor today,” Julia replied, swallowing roughly as she kept her amber eyes trained on the boys running around the yard.

“Okay… What’d you go for?” John asked, trailing his fingers over her upper arm in feather light motions.

“I felt a lump…. The day that Stiles broke his arm.” She replied, feeling her throat tightening, the backs of her eyes stinging lightly.

“A lump, like…. The bad kind of lump?” John asked, clearly trying to keep his voice calm and not alarm the boys.

“Yeah, John,” Julia sighed, lifting up a hand to rub over her face tiredly, “the bad kind.”

“W-..Well what did the doctor say?” John asked, turning his head to press his lips against Julia’s shoulder; just the slightest bit of pressure to reassure her.

“Breast cancer.” Julia kind of whispered out, not entirely trusting her voice for much more than that. The tightening behind her throat was even worse now. She could feel a little bit of wetness on the fingers that were currently covering her eyes.

“What does that mean, exactly?” He asked, his arm tightening around her infinitesimally

“It means that I have cancer, John.” Julia replied, dropping her hand and turning her head to look at her husband with slightly red, wet eyes. “It means that my body is fighting itself, and that there’s something inside of me, eating away-“

“Shh, shh, baby, it’s okay.” John murmured, pulling her harder against his side. “We’re gonna figure this out. It’ll be okay.”

Julia felt her chest tightening to a painful level, her body curling in against John’s side as she moved to lean against him heavily.

“Oh, god, what am I going to tell the boys?” She half-sobbed out, muffling herself by pressing her face against John’s shoulder, sliding her arms around her husband and squeezing like her life depended on it.

**+++**

The treatments that Julia was put through were completely gruesome towards her body. There was the constant nausea and the vomiting that sometimes came along with it. There was the increased muscle fatigue that led to being down right exhausted all of the time. Julia tried to keep the boys from becoming too aware of how tired she was really feeling, or just how upset she was to her stomach; but even when she had aches and pains, she would still play with the boys and read them stories or help them make cookies.

It was a lot harder than she could ever have imagined. Where she once could still pick Stiles or Isaac up and swing them around in a hug, she couldn’t even hug them too tightly because it would physically cause her pain. She had to stand just outside the room and listen to her husband tell Stiles and Isaac that she was sick. She had to listen to the boys ask what they could do to make her feel better. Hear Stiles suggest that they make her chicken noodle soup and snicker doodles because they were her favorite foods when she was feeling all down.

“But, daddy, we gotta do somethin’.” She could hear Stiles say, his voice desperate as he tried to think of a way to help her.

“Yeah! She always makes us chicken soup when we’re sick!” Isaac added, undoubtedly wrapped around Stiles. The two of them were usually wrapped around each other somehow.

“Boys…” John sighed, his voice sounding world weary, “I don’t think chicken soup is really gonna help with this kind of sick….”

“No, daddy, we just have to make her some soup, okay? It’ll be all better once we make her some soup.” Stiles insisted.

Julia had to walk away at that point. She had to lock herself in her and John’s bedroom and curl up on the bed as she muffled her sobs into one of the pillows on the bed. She couldn’t deal with hearing the boys sound so hopeful that chicken noodle soup would make her feel better; really, she appreciated the thought, but she knew that they would just be crushed when the soup didn’t work.

And in that moment, she vowed that she would always ‘feel better’ when the boys were around. No matter what.

**+++**

Julia’s latest doctor’s appointment showed that she wasn’t responding to the chemo as the doctors would have liked. She was still dying, only now she felt incredibly pukey all the time. Not to mention that she was getting even more tired, even quicker. Oh, and her hair had started falling out.

The first day that her hair had started falling out, she’d cried for about two hours before the boys had come in and jumped on the bed until she put a large smile on her face. She’d gotten up and helped them make cupcakes to surprise Scott for his birthday at school. She’d had to keep a strong façade going until John came home and managed to distract the boys enough for her to remove herself from the room and lock the door to their bedroom again.

The thing that really got her though? Now she really felt like she was dying. She felt the tremors in her hands, the way that she couldn’t brush her fingers through either of the boys’ hair without her hands shaking. How she was forced to allow John to prepare dinner as she instructed him because she couldn’t handle picking up the pots and pans with food in them. Her body was weakening.

She was fading away.

But, John wouldn’t hear her speak of the truth behind what was happening in her body. He’d tell her that the treatments would work, that things felt really bad now, but she would go in to remission and everything would be fine. The chemo would work and she would be cancer free. That it had to get worse before it would get better.

He’d tell her that she would grow her hair back out long and beautiful and regain her strength. She would be able to stomach food instead of nibbling on anything that she could manage to keep down, and even if she could get something down, it would only come back up a little while later. He told her that they would take a trip and celebrate her recovery with showing the kids the new and exciting things that the world had to offer.

And one day, well, one day Julia just wasn’t up for hearing John’s hope filled _wishes_. She was tired. God, she was so fucking tired of feeling so frail and broken. She was tired of feeling like she was withering away right before her own eyes. She was tired of the pain, and the nausea, and the inability to hold her boys to her without _something_ hurting. She missed sex! She missed her life.

“You don’t get it, do you, Johnathan?!” She knew that her voice was a little too loud for being just a few rooms away from the boys where they were upstairs doing their homework. “You just don’t… I’m not _getting_ any better, John! I’m not. And-and- hearing everything that you want to do when I’m better isn’t making this any easier for me. I can’t—I can’t fucking think about anything aside from feeling as if I’m slowly slipping away and all I can do is stand back and watch my body die on me—“

“Julia, please, the boys-“

“They’ll hear?” Julia asked, tears evident just by her voice. She knew that she was probably entitled to some sort of break down, but she’d never really expected herself to. At least, not in front of anyone else. She’d always done her crying while she shoved her face in to a pillow or sobbed uncontrollably in the shower. She’d never been so broken and vulnerable out in the open, not even to John. She’d always had to be strong for her boys. Because she was a strong, willful woman. But her will was slipping away.

“Maybe they need to hear, John,” She sighed out, crossing her arms over her body as she paced slowly across the kitchen floor. She couldn’t move as fast as she used to. “because… Because, I’m not getting any better,” she turned to look at him, her amber eyes stinging with tears, vision blurry as they built up a watery wall over her eyes, “and I’m _sorry_ that I’m disappointing you by not getting better. I’m so fucking sorry—But… But, I don’t want to hear about what we’ll do when I’m all cancer free, because, because I know, deep down in my soul, that I’m not going to be here to participate, John.”

“Jules..C’mon..” John’s eyes were glossing over with unshed tears. He stood up to come over to her, but Julia held up a hand to keep him back.

“Please just listen to me, John,” She kept her eyes firmly on his, her bottom lip trembling as she tried to force out the words that had been eating at her for months now. “I’m not gonna be here, baby. I’m not--.. I wont be here for some family vacation.”

“Yes, yes you will. You, me, and the boys---“

“I won’t be here for them, John!!” She raised her voice to the point of cracking, her fingers tightening into fists as she placed them on top of the knitted cap on her head. She sucked in a harsh breath, her thin fragile looking frame shaking with the intensity of the breath, “I—I won’t see them grow up or graduate or fall in love for the first time. I won’t see them fall in love for the _last_ time o-or have babies o-or get married. I won’t hold my grand babies, John! I won’t be able to hold _my_ babies!! O-Or you!”

John moved forward, wrapping his arms around her shoulders loosely, attempting to pull her body closer to his; but she planted her hands on his chest and shoved, coughing out a sob as she shook her head, “No! How-…. How am I supposed to leave now, huh? I’ve got so much more shit to do! Places to see, people to meet! I—I—I can’t do any of that because I’m _not going to be here_!” She slammed her hands down against John’s chest again, as hard as she could (which, admittedly, wasn’t very hard at all). “Do you hear me? I. Am. Not. Going. To. Make. It!”

“Baby, please,” Tears were streaming down John’s face freely now, and it only broke Julia’s heart more because _she_ was the cause of his tears. And she’d never, ever, wanted to hurt John. Never in a million years.

Julia stopped fighting John’s arms, sagging heavily against his body because hers was completely worn out. The two of them sank down onto the floor, John cradling her to his body tightly, but not tight enough to hurt her. “I’m just…. I’m so tired, John,” she cried against his collar bone, clutching at his shirt like a life line. Like it would actually keep her alive, “I’m so tired of fighting ….. fighting a lost cause.”

“I….. I know, baby,” John muttered into her hair, soft hitches in his breath telling her that he was fighting off his own break down, “I know.”

**+++**

Sleeping. Julia had been doing a lot of sleeping. She’d go to bed earlier, wake up later in the morning. It became where she’d miss fixing the boys breakfast or kissing them goodnight for bed. It came to the point where she hardly got out of bed at all.

She figured that today would be one of those days, and the universe only proved that when she opened her eyes to see a matching pair staring at her with such worry that she felt her stomach roll. She pulled a hand from her cocoon of blankets and reached out to trail her fingertips down Stiles’s cheek lightly.

“You’re…. you’re not getting better are you, mama?” Stiles asked. She’d never heard his voice sound so small, as if…if he talked too loudly that it would cause her harm.

Julia closed her eyes tightly, feeling the now all too familiar sting behind them. She moved over slowly on the bed, allowing some space for Stiles to crawl up onto the bed next to her. Once he did, she pulled him close, cradling his head against her shoulder and rubbing his back soothingly.

“No, baby,” she said after a little while of quietly holding her sweet boy. “Mama’s not getting better.”

Stiles moved, wrapping his arms around her and holding on to her tightly. She could feel his body trembling as he held on to her; it hurt a little bit, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that. Wetness seeped through the fabric of the t-shirt that she was wearing, warming her shoulder for a moment before it cooled down enough that it chilled her.

“Shh, shh.. It’s gonna be okay.” She murmured, pressing her lips to Stiles’s forehead, “you’re gonna be okay.”

“I don’ wan’ be okay wi’out you,” Stiles mumbled into her shirt, clearly struggling to control himself and his crying.

“I know, Stiles,” she pressed a small series of kisses to his forehead, moving her hand to brush her fingers over his buzz cut. He’d insisted that he get one once her hair had fallen out, so that she wouldn’t feel so alone. “I know, but… you’re gonna be great with or without me.”

She listened quietly as Stiles cried against her shoulder, clinging to her tightly. When she heard the bedroom door open again, she glanced over to see Isaac standing there with his forehead wrinkled in worry. She offered him a small smile and held out her other arm, waiting for him to climb up onto the bed and snuggled up to her other side.

“You boys,” she mumbled, holding on to them as tightly as she could, “you boys mean the world to me. I really hope that you know that… that you’ll always remember that. I love you two so much that it hurts, and…” She had to pause to clear her throat, hoping that it would relieve the tightness, “and, I want you to take care of each other, okay? Take care of each other and your dad. And… and even if I’m not here, I’ll always be with you.”

“I don’t want you to go anywhere, Mama,” Isaac mumbled into her shirt, sniffling just so. “I want you to stay with us.”

“I’d love nothing more than that, babe, but… I’m not so sure I can keep that promise.”

“I love you, mama,” both boys said, holding on just a little bit tighter.

**+++**

Everything was so hazy now.

It seemed like everything was moving much slower. It smelled much more sterile. When she moved, the world went just a little too wonky, dizziness washing over her.

When she woke once again, she was in a room. She recognized it somewhere in her mind to be a hospital room, but her mind was more focused on how hazy everything felt. Blinking the bleariness from her eyes was a chore, as was turning her head to notice the drip attached to an IV leading to her hand. 

“Julia?”

She turned her head to see the sweet, kind face of Melissa McCall, offering her a warm smile as she slipped her hand into Julia’s. She attempted to return the smile, but wasn’t sure if her neurons were firing right.

“You’re in the hospital. We’ve got you on some medicine to dull the pain, okay?” After a weak nod from her, Melissa continued, “You’ve been here for a couple of days.”

“what…. What happened?” she tried to force out, her voice coming out as a croaky whisper.

“Seems that you took a fall in the kitchen. Your body is… well.. honey, your body is weakening.” Melissa told her, rubbing her fingers in soothing circles over in the inside of Julia’s wrist lightly.

“How long do I have?” She asked, keeping her eyes tuned on Melissa’s face, attempting to stay conscious for a little bit longer.

The look on Melissa’s face told her everything that she needed to know. She didn’t have very much longer, it seemed. A part of her was terrified. Terrified of leaving Stiles without a mom, Isaac without a mother figure. She was terrified of leaving John without a wife. She was terrified of not seeing her boys grow up or seeing the grey start to spot John’s hair as they grew old together. Never seeing the milestones that every parent should be able to see for their children.

The other part though? The other part was so goddamn relieved.

“I see,” she mumbled, letting the sleep take hold of her again.

 

The next thing that she really remembers is hearing John’s voice, feeling a hand holding hers firmly, but gently. Feeling lips brush across her knuckles. Being unable to open her eyes to see her husband.

“Jules…” John sighed against her knuckles before pushing on. “I don’t… I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this without you. I… I _need_ you here with me. I… I need you to help me with the boys, to hear you laugh with them or at one of my stupid jokes…. God, I can’t remember the last time I heard you laugh so much you were crying.” He sounded choked up, but she wasn’t entirely sure if it was the truth or if the drugs were messing with her.

“The boys need you.” He continued, brushing his lips over her knuckles as he spoke. “Stiles needs his mom. He….. He’s gonna be completely lost without you. _I_ am gonna be completely lost without you. I’m already lost and… and.. you’re not even gone yet. I’m… I’m pretty sure I was lost from the moment you said cancer, and, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” He sighed out the rest against the back of her hand, the feeling of wet tears sliding over her skin.

The next semi-lucid moment, she felt two sets of small hands holding on to hers. They were being careful of the wires coming from her, but she knew it was her boys all the same. She squeezed their hands as much as she could, forcing her eyes to open in order to see her babies at least one more time.

“Mama,” Stiles whispered, his eyes wide and haunted looking as he peered into her face, moving a little closer to the side of the bed.

“ ‘ey, baby.” She mumbled, a tiny little smile curving her lips, “ ‘ow’re m’boys, doin’?” 

“Mama…” Stiles looked like he wanted to say something more, but she squeezed his hand lightly again.

“S’ok, baby.” She reassured him weakly. “S’ok.”

“No.. No it’s not.” Stiles shook his head, looking at her helplessly. “I can’t… I… I won’t say goodbye to you.” He told her, his voice surprisingly strong for how much it trembled.

“Me neither,” Isaac shook his head, rubbing his fingers over the back of her hand lightly.

“Y’don’ have to, sweetie.” She replied, feeling her eyes sting. “I’m always gonna be here.” She pulled her hand from Stiles’s, pointing a finger and tapping it to his chest weakly, “M’always gon’ be here.”

Tears welled up in Stiles’s eyes as he shook his head a little bit. “I don’t want you to go, mama. I don’t, I need you here. We do. Dad does, we’re all just… you can’t go. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me-“

She could hear the monitors slowing down, but she was really focusing pretty hard on what Stiles was saying, “M’sorry, ‘oney.”

“Mama?” Stiles looked alarmed, his eyes darting from her face to the machines next to him, the beeping slowing down even more, “Mama? Mama, what’s happening?”

“S’ok, s’iles. S’ok.”

“No!” Stiles must’ve told Isaac to go find a nurse because Isaac was bounding out of the room a second later, but everything was fading darker, “Mama?! Please don’t leave me, please please please. I don’t want you to leave me. Please don’t go. Mama? MAMA!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omigod, you people, I am so sorry. D=
> 
> I am a terrible terrible person.
> 
> I broke my own heart writing this. There were tears and smeared mascara everywhere, and I'm just... Yeah, I'm sorry (but I'm not sorry because I hope it was a great thing! Plus, I've never read someone going in to Mama Stilinksi like, this, so...yeah)
> 
> I'll have tissues to hand out at the door! I hope to see you again! =D
> 
>  
> 
> I sure hope I did her justice.


	3. And Baby Even On The Worst Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Mama Stilinski's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry's it's taken so long to post this one, guys!
> 
> I hope it's worth the wait!
> 
> More notes at the end!

“S’ok, s’iles. S’ok.”

“No!” Stiles practically screamed at Isaac to go find a nurse, and then Isaac was bounding out of the room a second later, but the beeping on Mama’s machines was getting slower and slower. Stiles could feel the panic rising within his chest, threatening to either claw its way out of him or close his throat completely, “Mama?! Please don’t leave me, _please please please._ I don’t want you to leave me. Please don’t go. Mama? MAMA!”

The beeping on the machine slowed to one steady tone, one long drawn out note of sound that would echo in Stiles’s head. His hands latched on to his mother’s shoulders, shaking her lightly as he called her name over and over again. “Mama! Mama, no, please, mama! Wake up! Please wake up, please don’t leave me!! Mama!!!”

Stiles barely heard the steady beep anymore; all he could really hear was his heart beat pounding loudly in his ears. He could tell that his mother was blurry, but he didn’t entirely put it together with tears fogging up his vision. He just needed his mama to wake up. That’s all he needed.

“Mama, please,” he sobbed against her chest, moving her with little aborted shakes to try and rouse her from her sudden slumber. “Mama, please don’t leave me. Please don’t go. I-I don’t want you to go. P-please wake up!”

The next thing that Stiles knew, he felt hands wrapping around his waist, pulling him off of his mama’s bed. He hadn’t realized that he’d been on it until the point where the nurse set him on the floor. When he turned around to lash out, to fight to get back to his mama, he saw Scott’s mom’s face. The next thing he could see was a close up view of her scrubs as she pulled him close and held him tightly as he sobbed uncontrollably into her scrubs. 

“P-please w-wake her u-up!” Stiles somehow managed to force out, his hands gripping tightly to Melissa’s clothing. “P-please w-wake my m-mama up!”

“I’m so sorry, honey, I’m so, so sorry,” Melissa attempted to sooth him, rubbing her hand over his short buzzed hair as she tightened her other arm around him. “We, uh, we need to get out of this room, sweetheart.” 

Stiles shook his head roughly, but Melissa moved, pulling Stiles out of the room. When the stepped out, Stiles felt hands on his back, causing him to turn to see Isaac with large tears spilling down his face. Melissa let go of him for enough time that Stiles could turn and pretty much lunge at Isaac, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend and hold on for dear life as they both cried.

He felt Melissa’s arms around the both of them, sandwiching Stiles between herself and Isaac as she spoke soft, soothing words to the two of them. It didn’t make anything feel any better, but Stiles could appreciate the gesture.

“Wh-where’s my dad?” Stiles asked, his face pressed against Isaac’s shoulder as he came down from the roughest of his sobbing.

“He’s in the room…with your mom.” Melissa replied, and Stiles could feel her arm moving where she was rubbing her hand over Isaac’s back soothingly.

“I want my dad,” Stiles kind of whimpered, turning his face to tuck it against Isaac’s neck snugly.

**+++**

Stiles couldn’t tell you what happened at his mom’s funeral. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, no, of course not, it was just that he was too busy sobbing against Isaac’s shoulder quietly to really pay attention to the words that people were saying about his mother. He knew it all already, right? His mom was beautiful and kind and warm and charming. She was the sweetest person on the planet, a great friend, an amazing woman, so strong and vivacious.

And yet, she’d withered away right in front of Stiles’s eyes.

Stiles really couldn’t take listening to all of the people who attended his mom’s funeral speak at him with their condolences. He knew that they meant well, he really did, but he couldn’t help but feel bitter. After all, these people would leave and he’d still be walking around his house lost and looking for his mom at every turn. He really just wanted to get away from all of the fake-looking sympathetic expressions that really only looked like pity to him.

So, once they’d headed back to the Stilinski residence, Stiles dragged Scott and Isaac up the stairs to his room. He sat down on his bed, pulling his knees up to his chest. He hadn’t bothered pulling off his suit jacket or even his shoes; he’d just sat on his bed and curled in on himself. He could hear the crowd of people coming in to the house downstairs and speaking to his dad and Scott’s mom. 

He vaguely felt Isaac and Scott sit on the bed with him, but he just stared at a spot on his comforter, attempting to tune out the noise from downstairs; people were probably bringing in dishes of food for them to eat or whatever the hell else people did when someone died. Stiles had only been to one other funeral that he could remember and it was for his grandpa when he was five. He couldn’t really remember what was supposed to happen at these things.

Stiles wasn’t entirely sure how long he sat and stared at the comforter in front of him. He could hear Scott and Isaac talking softly next to him, but he wasn’t paying attention to what they were talking about. Honestly, he didn’t even care what they were talking about. He just wanted his mom back. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in her arms and smell her perfume, hear her heart pounding as he laid his head on her chest, feel her arms around him, her fingers brushing through his hair.

But he was never going to feel that again. He wasn’t going to feel her fingers push the hair off of his forehead or brush down his cheek lovingly. He wasn’t going to hear her boisterous laugh or see the brightness shining in her amber eyes, eyes that he would have to see in the mirror every day. He wouldn’t be able to wrap himself around her tightly or play around with her and make her laugh so hard that she was crying and howling with joy.

Stiles snapped out of his thoughts, reaching up to wipe his face with his sleeve where he’d been silently crying. He moved to get up, deciding that something to drink would maybe make him feel better.

“Where are you going?” Scott asked in a small voice, his dark eyes tracking Stiles’s movements with worry.

“Need some’in to drink,” Stiles replied, waving a hand for the two of them to stay where they were as he headed for his bedroom door.

He didn’t entirely want to walk downstairs and risk running in to people, but he wanted something to drink to see if it would ease the tightness in the back of his throat. So, he made his way through the house, taking the stairs slowly so that he didn’t draw attention by his feet pounding down them. When he reached the bottom, he veered off and slipped in to the kitchen, trying to keep anyone from noticing him.

Once he’d fixed himself a glass of water, he stood by the sink sipping it slowly. He could hear people talking quietly in the living room. He could pick out his dad’s voice, but not entirely what he was saying, per say. He could hear Melissa speaking softly to his dad as well, her tone soothing and soft.

Stiles let out a breath and turned to head back towards the stairs, carrying his glass of water with him so that he wouldn’t have to come back downstairs any time soon. He was just coming out of the kitchen when he heard his name come from his father’s lips. So he stopped and glanced over at his dad where he was sitting on the couch with Melissa, who was rubbing soothing circles along his dad’s back.

He noticed the glass of amber liquid in his dad’s hand, but he didn’t entirely think anything of it. He’d seen his dad drink something similar before, after all; but when his dad kept talking, there was a slight slur to his words, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

“John, don’t say that,” Melissa told him, keeping her voice soft.

“W’not? S’true!” John told her, shaking his head as he rolled his wedding band around his finger, staring at it like it held all the answers. “She’s gone. N’ now I’ve gotta take care of two boys n’ figure out how t’live without m’wife.” John lifted his head to look at Melissa with his watery blue eyes. “How’m I s’posed to do that? Huh? How’m I s’posed to take care of that hyper active lil’ shit? He wore her’out, y’know that?”

“John, c’mon.” Melissa sighed, shaking her head a little bit.

“No. He wore her out. She was weak n’ fragile n’ he just kept on.” John clenched his fingers around his glass, shifting around in his seat a little bit, “he coul’nt jus’ be like Zac.. Nooo,” he let out a dry, humorless laugh, “no, sir, he had to be stuck up her ass the entire time she was’sick. He coul’nt be the lil’ angel that Zac is. Course not. Zac doesn’t fall out’f trees or or or get in trouble at school or or break things. He doesn’t run around seeking all the attention in the world. _he_ didn’t drive Jules into the ground and steal whatever time she had left.”

Stiles didn’t realize that he’d let go of his glass until it shattered on the floor by his feet, sending glass shards and water everywhere. His throat felt tight and his eyes were stinging as he stared, open mouthed and gaping, at his father. Everyone in the room quieted down to silent, turning to look at Stiles.

“Stiles-“

Stiles didn’t want to hear what Melissa would say to him. He turned and ran out of the house, heading through the kitchen and wrenching the back door open. He wasn’t sure his feet even touched the steps on the back porch as he ran. He wasn’t even sure where he was running, he just needed to get away. He didn’t even hear Melissa screaming his name from the back porch as he ran off.

He had to run off, right? Apparently his dad didn’t want him there. He thought Stiles was the reason that Mom was gone now; that it was Stiles’s fault for wanting to always be around his mom no matter what. And was it his fault that he loved his mom more than anything and just wanted to be around her brightness and warm all the time?

Stiles managed to fight off the oncoming tears until he reached his destination. He wasn’t sure when he decided that he needed to run all the way to the cemetery, but when he finally made it, he crashed to his knees on top of the newly filled grave, getting dirt and grime all over his suit and hands. He felt like his throat was literally closing up on him. His chest felt heavy and burned with the lack of oxygen in his lungs. 

He thought maybe it was from running, but it felt direr than that. Like, there was something literally compressing down on his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He could barely feel the tears that were now streaming down his face and dripping onto the grave as he fought for breath through sobs and his cried apologies to his mom.

“I-I’m sorry, Mama, I’m so so sorry. I-I-I k-killed you! I-I did-didn’t mean to! I just wa-wanted to be with you al-always.” He sobbed out, gripping hand fulls of the fresh earth under him and gripping it until his knuckles turned white. His body kind of collapsed against the dirt, enough so that Stiles could taste the dirt from where he was gasping for air and sucked some into his mouth. “D-dad thinks that it’s my f-fault. H-he blames me for y-you being gone an-and ma-maybe he’s right. Oh, god, I can’t—“

Stiles felt hands on him, pulling him up. He twisted roughly, feeling his elbow connect with something as he turned. He saw Isaac’s face through his tears and twisted around even more, shoving Isaac off of him. “Get ‘way from me!” He cried out, trying desperately to pull some air into his lungs. “y-you need to just go back! You’re the one that d-dad wants!!”

Isaac tried to grab hold of him again, but Stiles just pushed him away even harder, turning to bury his face into his arms. 

“No! No, Stiles, he doesn’t feel that way! I promise he doesn’t, Stiles, come on!” Isaac tried to move over to him again but Stiles swung his feet out, trying to keep Isaac away from him.

“No! I heard him! He s-said that it’s my fault that Mama’s gone!” Stiles yelled at him, his throat feeling raw, his voice coming out broken.

“No he doesn’t!” Isaac shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip as he moved back over to Stiles, avoiding Stiles’s kicking legs and managing to wrap his arms around Stiles, “he doesn’t, Stiles, he loves you. I know he does.”

“He doesn’t. He doesn’t want me! He’d rather have Mama back than have me here instead! He doesn’t want me! I’m too much trouble, an-and I ki-killed her! He sa-said it, Zac, he said it! I heard it!” Stiles sobbed, giving up trying to keep Isaac away from him now that Isaac had reached him and wrapped his arms around him.

“Shh, shh, no he doesn’t. He loves you, Stiles.” Isaac murmured against Stiles’s shoulder, holding onto him tightly.

“Oh, god, I can’t breathe,” Stiles sobbed out, his hands moving to grasp at his own chest, like maybe he could claw some air into his lungs.

“Yes you can,” Isaac told him, moving to hold on to Stiles a little better, his cheek pressed against Stiles’s ear. “Yes you can, just.. Just follow my lead, kay? We.. We’re gonna get through this. I promise we will.”

“No, no, no,” Stiles whined, dropping his head back against Isaac’s shoulder as he tried to breathe through his tears and sobs.

**+++**

Stiles was completely exhausted out by the time that two figures approached him and Isaac. The two of them were sitting against the headstone of his mother’s grave. Isaac’s back to the stone, Stiles’s back to Isaac’s chest as Isaac still held on to him tightly, making sure that he was breathing normally. Stiles could feel his pulse starting to quicken when the two teenagers approached them.

“uh.. You boys okay?” the girl asked, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders as she bent down a little to get a better look at Stiles and Isaac.

“Yeah.. We-we’re fine.” Stiles replied, pushing himself back against Isaac a little bit more. Isaac just tightened his arms around him.

“What’re you two doing out here all alone?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she lifted her eyes to look at the boy that was with her. Stiles would bet money on them being related; they looked so much alike.

“M-my mama,” Stiles mumbled, dropping his gaze down to his hands, gripping his knees tightly.

“Oh..” The girl frowned a little bit, clearing her throat as she squatted down in her place. “My name’s Laura. This is my brother, Derek,” she pointed to the boy standing next to her. “We were just visiting our grandmother.” She smiled a little bit sadly at the boys, even though Stiles wasn’t looking at her completely, he could see her through his lashes.

“I’m Isaac.” Isaac said, causing Stiles to flinch a little bit. His dad had always told them not to talk to strangers after all. “This is Stiles.”

“Well, Isaac, is there someone I can call to come get you two?” Laura asked, keeping her voice soft and sweet.

Isaac nodded a little bit, but Stiles shook his head quickly, “no… No.I don’t wanna go back home.”

Laura lifted her head to look at her brother, the two of them seemingly having a discussion with their eyebrows. After a moment, she turned back to the boys and sighed, “Well, it’s going to rain pretty bad soon,” she told them, glancing at the sky before looking back at them. “We don’t live far from here. My mom can get you some hot cocoa or something to warm you up. You poor things are trembling.”

“But, I don’t wanna go home—“

“oh, honey, we won’t make you go home.” She smiled softly at him, offering Stiles her hand. “You can hang out with us. Derek just got some new video games you can try out if you want to.”

Stiles stared at her for a moment, switching between looking into her eyes and down at her out stretched hand. His dad had always drilled it in to him never to talk to strangers, but this girl seemed really nice. And it wasn’t like his dad wanted him around anyway, right? So, after a moment’s hesitation, Stiles reached out and placed his hand into Laura’s.

**+++**

After Laura and Derek had driven Stiles and Isaac to their house, they ushered the boys inside. Laura brought the two of them into their living room after getting them to take off their shoes by the door. She told them to sit tight a minute while she got them some cocoa. Stiles felt pretty bad about getting dirt all over their furniture, so he plopped himself down on the floor, feeling Isaac sit down next to him, scooting close to him

After listening to Laura and Derek talk to who Stiles assumed was their mother, he heard footsteps coming towards them, so he lifted his head and watched as a beautiful woman approached them with two steaming cups in her hands. She smiled warmly at the two of them as she knelt down, offering them the cups of cocoa.

“Careful, now, it’s really hot.” She told them, looking them over as they took the cups and held them in their cold hands. 

Stiles tentatively took a sip, attempting to keep himself from breaking down again. The hot chocolate tasted almost just like his mom’s; not to mention Laura and Derek’s mom was really sweet and warm, just like his mom, with dark hair and eyes. Stiles swallowed roughly, leaning in to Isaac’s side a little bit.

“Look at you two,” She sighed heavily, “Alright, Derek? Derek, please gather some of your cousin’s clothing so that we can get these two out of these dirty clothes.” Once Derek had nodded and headed off, she leaned forward and pressed her palms to both of their foreheads. “Well, that’s good. There’s no fever, so, you haven’t been out in the cold for too long, it seems.”

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Isaac mumbled, lifting his head to look at her fully. “What… What’s your name?” He asked, kind of timidly.

The woman smiled and let out a nice, soft laugh, “Talia Hale, and you are?”

“Isaac,” He replied with a small smile, relaxing a little bit more. “This is Stiles.”

Talia’s eyebrows arched up a little bit, “Sherriff Stilinski’s son?” She asked, looking at Stiles with a slightly calculating expression.

“Yes ma’am,” Stiles mumbled, almost sticking his nose in his hot chocolate as he bowed his head.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Talia sighed, brushing her hand over Stiles’s hair lightly, “I’m so sorry.” She mumbled, startling a little bit as Derek came back into the room with the clothes. “oh, Derek, thank you, sweetheart.”

Derek nodded and looked from her to the boys, a small frown on his face before he turned and walked out of the room again.

Talia sighed softly and held the clothes in her lap. “D’you boys want to change out of those dirty, damp clothes and into these nice clean warm ones? I’m just going to go check on the cookies I was making before you arrived. The bathroom is down the hall if you do want to change. Feel free, I woudn’t want you two catching cold.” She set the clothes down on the floor in front of her before she pushed herself up off of the floor gracefully and walked out of the room.

Stiles glanced over at Isaac, chewing on his bottom lip, “think we should?”

“She seems really nice,” Isaac nodded a little bit, “and I am pretty cold.”

Stiles nodded a little bit, sighing softly as he moved to pick the clothes up, walking with Isaac until he reached the bathroom that Mrs. Hale had described. They closed the door behind them and went about changing as carefully as possible, trying to keep as much dirt as they could from falling off of their clothing onto the spotless bathroom floor. Once they’d changed into the clothes that Mrs. Hale had handed them, the two of them headed out of the bathroom, holding their dirt covered clothes in their hands.

When they reached the living room again, Mrs. Hale was waiting with a bag to put their clothes in. Once they’d done that, she sat them down on the couch and brought them some of the cookies that she’d been baking, still warm and gooey from the oven.

“Just sit and relax, eat your cookies and drink your hot chocolate, okay? You’re safe here.” She told them, brushing her fingers over each of their heads lightly before she took the bag of clothes and set it by the door with their shoes.

Stiles and Isaac sat on the comfortable couch, nibbling on the cookies that Mrs. Hale gave them. Stiles hadn’t entirely realized how hungry he was until he tasted the cookies, but once he had, he pretty much devoured them. He couldn’t remember the last time that he really ate. Soon enough the cookies and hot chocolate were gone, their plates and glasses discarded on the end table next to the couch, stacked neatly together.

The two of them sat close together, their bodies pressed together from shoulder to knee. Stiles knew that it was Isaac’s way of saying that he was there for him, and vice versa. The two of them had always been able to touch each other for comfort and it had always worked, but the longer they sat there, the more Stiles thought about his mom and the things that his dad said; and he could feel the stinging behind his eyes.

He was so tired of crying, but he just couldn’t help it. Not when his mom wasn’t coming back. Not when she would never wrap her arms around him and comfort him like he was used to; whether it was because he’d skinned his knee or dropped one of her dishes and broke it or because he was worried about his dad while he was working late. She wouldn’t be able to do anything with him anymore, and Stiles couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Especially because these people were being so nice to him; Mrs. Hale being so warm and motherly that it made his chest ache and feel empty where his mom used to fill it over the brim.

He didn’t realize he was sobbing until he felt arms tug him in to a warm hug. He started and looked up to see Mrs. Hale wrapping him in a warm hug, murmuring soothing words and shushing him, rocking him slightly. He couldn’t help it, he just broke down against her blouse, his arms snaking out and wrapping around her tightly. He could feel her pull Isaac against his back, holding on to the both of them tightly as she murmured comforting words that didn’t entirely feel the same as when his mom did it. She told him that he and Isaac were welcome here any time, that if they needed to get out or go somewhere, that they could come here and she would make sure they were okay.

He just held on tightly and let it all out.

**+++**

Stiles must have passed out from the exhaustion of running from his house to the cemetery and also for crying for days and not sleeping very well, because the next thing that he knew, he was being hauled off of the couch by someone. When he opened his eyes, he noticed the shirt that Derek had been wearing earlier right in his field of vision, and he could see Melissa holding on to Isaac’s hand with one of hers while the other held the bag of their clothing as she stood by the room talking with Mrs. Hale and Laura. He could see another girl standing with them, and he recognized her from school vaguely, but he was too tired to point it out as Derek carried him towards the door.

Melissa turned her head and smiled sadly at him, thanking the Hales and turning to follow Derek out of the house. “C’mon, Stiles, let’s get you boys home.”

“Doesn’ ma’er,” Stiles mumbled sleepily, his arms exhaustedly tightening around Derek’s shoulders, “dad wouldn’ even care if I was gone an’way. He doesn’ wan’me.”

**+++**

Over the next few months, Stiles had started to sort of tip toe around his dad, especially since he noticed him drinking that amber liquid more and more. He noticed that Isaac was also sort of keeping his distance, but Stiles figured that was more because Isaac knew how his own father turned out after his mom and brother died in the car accident. Stiles didn’t really think his dad would get that bad, but the both of them still kept their distance.

The two of them pretty much stayed close together, tucked away in their rooms or hiding off in the back yard together, despite the cold. They were each other’s comfort, and they took it when they needed it. Sometimes that amounted to them smashed together in one of their beds, attempting to get a night of sleep that didn’t get disrupted by one of their nightmares. They’d both loved Julia and they were both pretty much lost without her.

Stiles’s dream usually involved his dad’s words after the funeral. Isaac’s probably involved the things his dad did to him after his mom and brother died.

Stiles started having panic attacks more often. He’d even started having them at school, triggered by small things that he never really pinned down. He’d start hyperventilating and bolt out of the room, only to have Isaac find him moments later and manage to talk him down from his panic. He even tried to keep the attacks from everyone else, thinking that he’d just be made fun of for having them.

Except, one day, Jackson and his friends decided to start picking on Stiles because he was looking a little peaky after a particularly bad panic attack that morning, blaming it on how Stiles’s mom was gone and she wasn’t there to take care of the ‘wittle baby’. Stiles couldn’t help it when he lost his collective shit and jumped Jackson. He even managed to get a few hits in on Jackson’s friends before a couple of teachers broke them apart. Stiles didn’t even care when he was sent to the principal’s office, or that she’d called his dad.

He didn’t care when he kept getting in to trouble for fighting or talking back or generally being a little shit.

Isaac tried to get him to stop acting out so much, but Stiles just ignored his concerns and kept dealing the way that he was dealing. It was a bad way to cope, but it was also the only way he could replace that empty feeling inside of him. If he was angry, he was at least feeling something, right?

**+++**

On a night where his dad had been on a particularly rough bender, Stiles was sitting in his room, listening to his father curse and sob downstairs. His fingers fisted up in his comforter as he stared at the floor. He couldn’t do this. He had to get out.

While he was throwing some of his things into his back pack, he heard Isaac come in to his room, his panicked voice asking, “what’re you doing?”

“I can’t, Zac, I can’t.” Stiles told him, shoving some clothes into his back pack and moving to pull on his hoodie and his larger, heavier jacket. “We… We should get out of here.” He told Isaac, looking over at him with slightly wide eyes.

“Y-… You mean run away?” Isaac asked, his blue eyes wide.

“Yeah. Dad… He doesn’t want us here.” Stiles pointed out, frowning as he heard glass break downstairs. “He can’t take care of us, Zac…. He can barely take care of himself.” Stiles told him, his voice soft and trembling.

“we can’t just leave, Stiles.” Isaac told him, moving over to take his book bag and set it back down on the floor. “We can’t. He… He needs us to help him get through this.”

“And what about us?” Stiles asked, his voice rising slightly. “Who’s gonna help _us_ get through this?” He asked, voice and hands trembling as he moved to pick up his book bag again. “If you don’t want to come with me… then… Then I guess I’m going on my own.” Stiles told him, frowning as he bit on his bottom lip.

“Stiles, you can’t jus-“

“Yeah, I can.. And I’m going to.”

“Where are you gonna go? Huh?”

“I’ll figure something out.” Stiles told him, putting his book bag on before wrapping Isaac in a tight hug. 

But then he let go and marched out of his room, quickly leaving. If he didn’t get out now, he’d cave and stay with Isaac.

**+++**

Stiles had been camped out in the woods for a day and a half before he heard someone screaming his name. He jumped up, nearly tripping as he grabbed his things and ran. He was exhausted and hungry and so thirsty. He hadn’t even thought about bringing food with him, but he didn’t want to go back home. His dad didn’t want him, after all.

Stiles crashed to the ground when he ran smack in to something, the wind knocked out of him.

“Jesus, Stiles!” He felt hands on his face, checking him over before he realized who it was.

“You again?” He asked, his voice sounding a little bit weak even to him.

“Yeah, me, you keep running away and I guess it’s just my luck to keep finding you.” Derek pointed out, moving to pull Stiles to his feet. “What were you thinking?”

“That I’m better off on my own?” Stiles suggested, rubbing a hand over his hair and avoiding looking at Derek.

“You dad and Isaac are worried sick, Stiles.” Derek told him, wrapping an arm around Stiles’s shoulders and leading him through the woods towards something.

“I don’t… I don’t wanna go back, Derek.” Stiles told him, looking up at Derek with his best puppy eyes.

“You have to.” Derek told him, squeezing his shoulders a little bit. “They’re really worried, Stiles. Isaac said that he thought you’d just come back on your own, but that was a day and a half ago. He told your dad, and your dad called it in. There are a lot of people looking for you, Stiles.”

“Dad doesn’t really care,” Stiles mumbled, lowering his gaze to the ground as Derek ushered him around. “He said… He said it was my fault mom died, that Isaac was better and he didn’t… He didn’t know how to handle me. So I made it easier on him.” He kept his voice low, chewing on his bottom lip as he walked.

“Logically, you know that isn’t true, Stiles,” Derek told him, frowning as he tightened his arm around Stiles’s shoulders. “Your dad loves you. It’s just… grief does crazy things to people, okay? They want to blame someone for what happened, but really.. It’s no one’s fault that it was just your mom’s time to go, alright?”

“He said I stole what time she had left.” Stiles mumbled.

“No.. if it was too much for her, your mom would have told you that she was too tired or something. She _wanted_ to spend that time with you okay? It’s not your fault that she’s gone.” Derek sighed and stopped walking to pull Stiles into a hug, one of his hands pressing gently to the back of Stiles’s head as Stiles hid his face against Derek’s chest.

After a few moments, Derek let out a small noise and pulled away, “C’mon, let’s get you home. You look terrible.”

**+++**

“How could you be so selfish?!” John yelled, pointing a finger at Stiles, “How the hell could you be so reckless and careless that you would just run off like that!? Do you even know how worried that we were?”

“No.” Stiles responded, keeping his eyes on the floor, his voice soft.

“Your mother would be so disappointed in you.” John sighed, sounding defeated.

Stiles’s head snapped his, his eyes wide and almost immediately filled with tears. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true. She… We didn’t raise you to be like this, Stiles. Getting in to fights or acting our or running away! What the hell has gotten in to you?”

“Mom is gone!” Stiles yelled, standing up and throwing his hands out, show casing the broken glass from over a day ago and the bottles of whiskey sitting out. “You’re probably gonna… You don’t even _want_ me here!!”

“Why would you say that?” John asked, standing stock still as he watched Stiles.

“You _said_ it! After mom’s funeral! You said it was my fault and you didn’t know how to even handle me!” Stiles yelled at him, not even feeling the tears sliding down his face. He vaguely felt the tightening in his chest, but he ignored it as he stared at his dad through blurry tear filled eyes. “You.. You don’t want me here! It-It took you over a day to realize I wasn’t even here and even then it took Isaac saying something!”

“That’s not-“

“Yes it is!” Stiles buckled in on himself, his chest tightening up even quicker than it usually didn’t. He moved a hand to clutch at his chest, gasping for breath, his body trembling.

“Stiles? Stiles! What’s happening?” Stiles could feel hands on him, but he shoved his dad off of him.

“Get away from me!” He sobbed out, still trying desperately to get some air into his lungs. He scooted back against the couch, pressing his back to it and pulling his knees up to his chest. It didn’t really help him breathe, but it made him as small as possible.

Smaller hands wrapped around his forearms, and Stiles relaxed the slightest bit hearing Isaac’s soft voice, murmuring soothing things. Telling him that he _could_ breathe, he just needed to focus on Isaac’s breathing. He moved just a little bit, letting Isaac slip behind him and press his chest to Stiles’s back. He could feel Isaac’s chest rising and falling calmly and he tried to copy him, to find just the right amount of air into his lungs to get himself under control again.

He could hear Isaac and his dad talking. His dad sounded panicked and seriously afraid of what was going on, but he couldn’t bring himself to really care at the moment. His chest felt like it was about to freaking implode in on itself.

Vaguely, he could hear his dad sobbing, apologizing to him. Saying that he didn’t mean those things. That he could never mean those things. That he loved Stiles more than anything in the world, he just missed his mom and was hurting. That he wasn’t going to drink anymore. He promised.

And, eventually, it finally became easier to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo hopefully that'll be enough angst for a while, huh? xD I'm looking forward to moving on to more fluffy stuff, hopefully! ^_^
> 
> Any ideas for cute little scenes are welcome because the angst and tears have fried my mind! Especially on top of all of the crap going on in my own life right now, so, I'm not entirely sure when exactly the next one will be up, but i promise it'll be as soon as possible! I don't wanna keep you all waiting too long!
> 
> Also, thanks so much for all of the comments and kudos and bookmarks! You all have no idea how much it means to me that this is being received so well and that you all want more! ^_^ warm and fuzzy, that's what it makes me feel! It makes the tears that came from writing all this sad stuff worth it! =D
> 
> So, a big big biiigg thanks to all of you that are following this and commenting and such! I love comments and pretty much respond do them all!
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr at dylangasmsforusall if you have questions or whatever or wanna plant little plot bunnies for these two cuties to grow in to! I'll prolly start off the next chapter when the boys are in high school! Sooo fun timmmess!


	4. Some Things Just Make Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac's POV!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the end for more nooteess!

Over the next several years, Isaac was constantly there. He was there to help Stiles and John through their mourning periods while he was also going through his own. It helped him to focus on making sure that the two of them were okay, though. It helped when he was able to help Stiles get through his panic attacks and eventually help Stiles become okay enough that he didn’t have them anymore.

It could have also been the therapy that John put Stiles through once he’d seen the panic attack for the first time. But, semantics. Isaac liked thinking that he had a nice part to do with it. Stiles would come in to his room, sometimes, after all; late at night and wrap around Isaac as he fought off his tears. That happened, though; random waves of grief that came with someone you loved being gone. Isaac wasn’t going to complain when Stiles needed him.

Isaac wasn’t even going to complain when he started to feel other things for Stiles aside from the protective urge towards _family_. It became more than that. So much so that Isaac would sometimes see Stiles whenever he was having private Isaac time alone in his bedroom or in the shower. He’d always feel exceedingly guilty once he’d finished himself off, cleaned up, and crawled into his bed. He shouldn’t be having those kinds of feelings about _Stiles_ , right? Right?

Right. He shouldn’t be feeling the way that he was about Stiles. They grew up as close friends, as brothers, he couldn’t.. He shouldn’t ruin all of that with other kinds of feelings right? Especially not when Stiles had never really shown any interest in Isaac like that. At least, not that Isaac had ever realized. He’d always been fawning over Lydia Martin or hero-worshiping Derek-freaking-Hale.

He’d even shown some sort of crush on Cora Hale whenever the two of them befriended her after the, uh, aftermath of the funeral and Stiles running away. They started hanging around her more and more, and soon he, Scott, and Stiles brought her in as the fourth member of their super-secret-cool-group; and that was totally fine. When Scott and Stiles wanted some bro time, Isaac and Cora could also have some bro time of their own. They always had someone to hang out with when they wanted it.

But, Isaac loved how things were. He really did. John had pitched in with Stiles’s savings and got Mom’s jeep up and running for him when he turned sixteen. Isaac had waved off John’s offer to help him get his own car as well; he’d told John that he’d be fine riding with Stiles while he saved up his own money for the his own vehicle. And Isaac liked it that way, even if it made him rely on Stiles or Cora for a ride, since Scott didn’t have a car either unless his mom let him take hers.

The only problem was that Isaac’s feelings for Stiles were only growing as time went on. He tried desperately to push them aside and remain the way that they always had been, but it was hard for him to do. It was like blocking off a pertinent part of his self and eventually, John noticed the difference in him.

He approached Isaac one night after dinner, when Isaac was standing in the kitchen cleaning up and Stiles was up in his room starting on the massive amount of homework that Harris had given them in chemistry. He walked into the kitchen, patted Isaac on the back and let out a small sigh.

“What’s going on, Zac?” He asked, squeezing Isaac’s shoulder as he leaned against the counter next to the sink where Isaac was working.

“What do you mean?” Isaac asked, elbows deep in sudsy water. “Nothing’s going on.”

“Mhm” John hummed, shaking his head a little as he watched Isaac, his eyes scrutinizing Isaac and making him just a little uncomfortable to be put under the Sheriff Eyes. “Something’s up. You’ve been acting differently for a little while now. Like.. More closed off around Stiles.”

“Oh.. Um.. It’s nothing.” Isaac shook his head, snorting a little bit before he focused back on the dishes at hand.

John shook his head faintly, moving around to grab the dishes Isaac had put in the wrack and drying them off. “It’s something, Zac, I know it is. I’ve been raising you since you were a kid, y’know.” 

Isaac sighed heavily, frowning as he glanced at the Sheriff out of the corner of his eye. “It’s really fine, I promise.” He scrubbed a little bit harder on the plate in his hands, turning his eyes back to his work instead of leering at John.

John remained silent for a little while, the two of them working in tandem to get the dishes washed and put up back in their places in the cabinets. Once they were finished with that, John took the couple of glasses that he’d set aside and filled them with milk before he grabbed the cookies that Stiles and Isaac had made before dinner. “C’mon, let’s munch on these before Stiles realizes it and snatches them from me.”

Isaac snorted into a small chuckle, “you know his spidey senses are going to start tingling as soon as you touch one of those cookies.” It was one of the things he loved about Stiles. He had an uncanny sense about when his father was eating something Stiles had forbid him to eat, making him rant and rave about being healthy.

“Oh, come on, I ate all of my vegetables and everything.” John told him, carrying the cookies and the glasses of milk over to the table and sitting down. He kicked the chair to his right out from under the table a little bit and gestured to it with his elbow, sliding one of the glasses over to that spot. “C’mon, eat some cookies with me.”

Isaac chewed on his bottom lip a little bit before he sighed, making his way over to the table and sitting down in the seat that John had slid out for him. He picked up his glass of milk and sipped it, watching John over the rim of it before he set it down and picked up a cookie, nibbling on it. He knew that John was really doing this to get Isaac to open up for him, but he wasn’t entirely in the mood to reveal that he was having impure thoughts about his _brother_ figure to said figure’s dad; even if John was more like a dad to Isaac than his own dad ever was.

The two sat in silence for a little while, slowly nibbling on the deliciously soft cookies that the boys had made. Isaac knew that John was kind of just biding his time, waiting for Isaac to break, but, he wasn’t going to. Not without a little pushing.

The two of them lasted maybe five minutes in silence before John sighed and set his cookie down, looking over at Isaac with worried blue eyes. “tell me what’s going on, son.”

Isaac glanced over at John, slowing down his chewing until it looking all deliberate, or maybe just really absent. He watched the man that had raised him, that he frequently called dad, and contemplated if he should talk or not. He remembered how John was with Julia, how much they loved each other, and he wanted that. He wanted it with Stiles; he just felt guilty as hell because Stiles was basically his brother and had been since they were small children.

“Isaac,” John mumbled, sighing as he rubbed a hand over his face. “You know you can talk to me about anything right? Anything at all. Good, bad, ugly, awesome, whatever the hell you need to talk to me about. You do know that, don’t you?”

Isaac looked down at the cooking in his hand, feeling the guilt pulse through him all over again, only tenfold. “Yeah, dad, I know I can talk to you about anything. I just… I’m not sure _how_ to talk about this..or.. or if I should.”

John watched him, his expression growing more worried by each word from Isaac’s mouth. It made Isaac’s stomach curl into knots. He put his cookie down, too, and curled his fingers together on the table instead.

“ _Anything_.” John reiterated, leaning forward slightly. “I love you like you were my son, okay? Hell, as far as I’m concerned, you are my son, blood or not. And nothing you can say or do is ever going to change that.”

Isaac lifted his head slightly, watching John through his eyelashes. He let out a small breath. “I’m sorry for being so weird lately… S’just that… With Stiles, I…” He trailed off, letting out a tiny little, barely there, frustrated noise from the back of his throat.

“You like him, don’t you?” John asked, his expression softening considerably.

Isaac started a little bit, looking up at John with wide, slightly panicky eyes. “I—“

“I see the way that you look at him, Zac.” John pointed out with a small chuckle. “So, now that you’ve let me in on that secret a slight bit verbally, I’m going to say something, and I want you to listen closely, okay?” Once Isaac nodded, John continued, “It’s okay that you feel the way that you do. You’ve grown up as brothers, yes, but you’re not actually blood related, so there’s nothing legally wrong with you feeling the way that you do. I took you under my guardianship because you were my god son and I loved you as my own, and it was my job to protect and love you.”

Isaac lowered his eyes back to his hands, chewing on the inside of his cheek a little, fiddling with his fingers. “I know you love me,” he mumbled with a small nod.

“Good, and I love Stiles.” John nodded, reaching out to place one of his hands over Isaac’s, keeping him from fiddling with his fingers. “And more than anything in the world, I just want you two to be happy. Now, if that happens to be with each other, then I’ll be ecstatic.”

Isaac lifted his head to look at John again, his expression slowly morphing into a sad one, “but.. He doesn’t feel the same way about me… I know he doesn’t.”

“How do you know that?” John asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Because.. He’s hung up on Lydia and sometimes Derek. He kinda hero-worships Derek like nobody’s business.” Isaac told him, frowning a little bit, “he doesn’t feel the same way that I do.”

John let out a small sigh, “listen, Zac…” He trailed off, seemingly trying to get his thoughts together. “Stiles is a really smart kid, y’know? But… Sometimes it takes him a little while to see certain things.”

Like Lydia never giving him the time of day, ever, or Derek not being interested? Isaac’s mind helpfully supplied.

“He’s just got to sort out all of his own stuff, alright?” John added with a small smile.

“So what’m I s’posed to do?” Isaac asked, fidgeting a little bit.

“Give it some time, wait things out? If you two are meant to be, then you’ll be together, y’know? With me and mom, it was…” He trailed off, and Isaac could see the lingering pain from not having Mom around anymore. None of them really talked about her because it still hurt too much, but sometimes little things would be said, “we weren’t the couple that got together right way and stayed together forever.” He told Isaac with a small chuckle, “It was hard work. I had to work my ass off to get her to notice me and be with me. I loved her from the moment I saw her, though, that’s for sure. She’d been with this guy and I had to wait it out until it was my chance to strike.”

“How long did you have to wait?” Isaac asked, watching him intently.

“Almost a year,” John told him with a small chuckle. “She was my best friend, and I wanted her to be happy. And if that guy had made her happy, I probably would have just stood by and shoved my own feelings aside to be a good friend to her.”

“So… you’re saying there’s a chance that Stiles may never feel the same for me?” Isaac asked, lowering his gaze again.

“I’m saying that… maybe you should date around,” John told him with a small sigh. He knew Stiles, and he didn’t entirely want Isaac to be hurt over all of this. “And if you find that you just can’t be happy with someone else? Then you’ll know that what you’re feeling is it for you, y’know? Just… Feel things out and try not to get too bogged down with it all.”

Isaac nodded slowly, staring down at their hands with a small sigh. “Okay.”

“Alright, good talk… now, go do your homework?” John attempted at being all stern but Isaac just chuckled and nodded as he stood up.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll clean this up. Oh, here, take Stiles a few of these.” He handed Isaac a few cookies on a napkin and patted him on the shoulder before pulling him into a one armed hug. “Everything’s gonna work out, son, I promise.”

**+++**

Isaac despised Chemistry. He absolutely loathed it. Well, more so, he loathed Harris, but that was probably more so because he was just a dick than the subject that he taught. Not to mention, he was _always_ riding Stiles’s ass about stupid things. That’s not to say that Stiles didn’t cause some trouble every now and then, of course he did, but Harris just had a stick up his ass where Stiles was concerned most of the time.

Today was one of those days, and Isaac had to consciously force himself to remain quiet and in his seat so that he didn’t lose his collective shit on Mr. Harris. He’d called Stiles out in front of the entire class about his homework being completely wrong and calling him an idiot; and Isaac knew for a fact that Stiles wouldn’t have fucked around on his homework because he’d been working on it for at least two hours the night before, and that was after Isaac’s talk with John in the kitchen which had lasted a good while.

“That’s complete bull, Mr. Harris!” Stiles complained loudly, shaking his head. Isaac could tell that he was slowly losing his temper as well. “I worked on that for hours last night, checking and double checking, and then checking again because you’re the bastard who likes to say that I’m not doing my work!”

“Mr. Stilinski!” Harris crumpled up Stiles’s homework and tossed it in the trash. “It’s crap, and it’s a zero.”

Stiles’s mouth dropped open, rage bubbling up in his eyes. “You can’t-“

“I can, and I just did.” Harris replied, a smarmy smirk crossing his lips as he watched Stiles drum his fingers along his desk in agitation.

The thing was, Stiles was actually _good_ at Chemistry. He’d been keeping Isaac afloat in the class all year long, making sure that he understood things and could make decent grades so that he didn’t flunk out. But, Harris was such a dick that he would fail Stiles for whatever reason he had, which was probably general hate of the ADHD kid who never paid attention in class and still made near perfect marks.

But, this was too far. The entire class was sitting in struck awe that Harris had literally just thrown Stiles’s work in the garbage. Isaac was trembling he was so angry, but he smirked a bit as he lifted his hand and cleared his throat to get Harris’s attention.

“Lahey?”

“You know, you can fail Stiles all you want, but when he aces that AP test at the end of the year, the administration will realize that it’s not _him_ that’s the problem. It’s you.” Isaac replied with a smarmy smirk of his own, “actually, I’m pretty tempted to go to the administration on my own and report you, and considering that there’s an entire class here that just witnessed your blatant unprofessionalism- and have for the entire year- I’m pretty sure that I could have your job for generally being a dick.”

The entire classroom stared at him in shock. Isaac wasn’t really one of those people who caused a lot of attention to be brought onto himself. He could feel the eyes on him, hear the shocked little gasps and noises. But most of all? He could feel Stiles gaping at him, which made him smirk even more as he lifted his eyebrows at Harris.

“So? What’s it gonna be?” Isaac asked after Harris just stood there dumbly for a moment, “you gonna pull that paper out of the trash and give Stiles the grades that he deserves- which are probably the highest in the class aside from Lydia and Danny- or are you going to leave it there and make me get up and walk out of here to march right up to the principal?”

“I—“ Harris began, looking as if he was about to argue, but when Isaac made a move to grab his things, Harris bent down and grabbed the papers from the trash can beside him, “there, are you happy?”

“Not really, I think you should give him the credit he deserves from _all_ of the assignments you’ve duped him on.” Isaac returned, sitting back in his chair and watching Harris with barely masked rage behind his eyes.

He could feel Cora next to him at the table, bumping his shoulder as she laughed under her breath at the situation.

“Fine.” Harris bit out, just as the bell rang signaling the end of class.

The entire class sat still for a moment before everyone started moving and talking loudly all at once, unable to hold in what had just happened as they all spilled out of the classroom to tell their friends.

Isaac felt Cora’s arms wrap around his neck tightly as she kissed his cheek, “Jesus, Zac, that was ridiculous! I’m kind of attracted to you, now, y’know?”

Isaac laughed, shaking his head as he hugged her back with the arm not holding his things. “Awesome,” he grinned, letting go of her when he heard Stiles clear his throat.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Stiles pointed out, his expression pretty closed off as he stared at Isaac.

“Yeah, I did.” Isaac nodded a little bit, kind of nervous about Stiles’s reaction.

“Now he’s going to be after you,” Stiles pointed out, sighing as he shook his head.

“No he wont. Because then I _will_ go to administration.” Isaac pointed out with a small shrug. It was better, anyway, if Harris stopped messing with Stiles and went after Isaac.

Stiles watched him for a moment longer before he shifted his bag on his shoulder. He nodded faintly, mumbling a small ‘well thanks’ before he turned and headed off to his next class.

“What was that about?” Cora asked after Stiles had left the room, tugging Isaac along with her and leaving the room.

“I dunno.” Isaac replied, frowning a little bit as he let Cora drag him along. “But, at least Harris’ll leave him alone now.”

**+++**

About a week later, Isaac was lying on Cora’s bed, Cora’s head resting on his stomach as they both stretched out with music playing from her computer on her desk. He’d shown up at her place when Stiles had announced that he was going to Scott’s for a video game night, leaving Isaac to his own devices. He was completely okay with that, though, considering he loved hanging out with Cora. She was his Scott.

They’d just been lying around for most of the evening, talking and laughing and generally just not doing anything. Mrs. Hale was downstairs cooking dinner with the help of Mr. Hale, and Isaac wasn’t even sure what everyone else was doing. Dinner was usually a whole family sort of deal with the Hales, though, so he was sure that they’d be back in the house just in the nick of time.

“So, you want to tell me anything?” Cora asked, jolting Isaac out of his thoughts. 

He had his fingers in her hair, playing with the strands almost to the beat of the music playing from Cora’s laptop. “What do you mean?” He asked after a moment.

“Well, you’ve been acting a little weird lately, and the thing with Stiles after you showed how badass you were to Harris.” Cora shrugged a little, turning her head to look at him, not even bothering to move from her perch on his stomach.

Isaac shrugged a little bit, “What d’you want me to say?” Isaac asked, lifting his eyebrows a little, “Harris is a dick and he needed to be put in his place.”

“Yeah, but something tells me it’s a little more than ‘Harris is a dick’, Zac.” She pointed out, rolling onto her side so she could see him better.

Isaac was quiet for a moment before he shrugged, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sure.” Cora rolled her eyes before she moved to sit up, crossing her legs under her, her knee resting against Isaac’s ribs. “Something’s going on with you. C’mon, you’re my best friend. Talk to me.”

Isaac watched her, trying to school his expression as best as he could. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Cor.”

“Yes, you do.” Cora insisted, shaking her head. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re in love with Stiles.”

Isaac froze, staring at her with slightly wide eyes. “Wh.. what?”

She nodded, smiling slowly as she watched him. She leaned forward after a moment and rested her elbows on her knees, her expression serious. “Like I said. You’re my best friend. I _know_ you.” She grinned at him, shrugging, “and I know that you’re pining like hell over Stilinski.”

“No I’m not.” Isaac shook his head, moving to sit up against the headboard.

“Sure you are.” She grinned at him, clearly taking his denial as confirmation. “But, I get it. He’s definitely something.”

“Yeah, and _something_ being one of our best friends.” Isaac pointed out with a shake of his head, “you’re crazy if you think I’m in love with him.”

“Then I guess I’m crazy.” She told him with a smirk, placing her hands behind her and leaning back. “Come on, Isaac, don’t bullshit me. What’re you gonna do about this?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I wouldn’t do anything. Because Stiles doesn’t feel the same way.” He told her, staring at the knee of his jeans.

“Why do you think that?” She asked, lifting her eyebrows.

“Because he’s head over heels for Lydia, and he’s got some hero-worship crush on your brother,” Isaac told her blankly, dropping his head back onto the headboard of her bed. “he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“So, you’re admitting that you feel more than friendly towards him?” Cora asked, a smirk curving her lips again as she watched him.

“Shit-No!” Isaac groaned, dropping his head forward and pressing his fingers into his hair. “Fine, okay, I do!”

“I knew it!” Cora grinned widely at him, pointing a finger at him as she moved closer. “What’re we gonna do about this?”

“We? We’re going to do nothing. I told you, he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Isaac, come on! Did you not see his face after you snapped at Harris? He was totally harboring some lusty feelings, there.” Cora told him, reaching out to grab his knee, shaking it lightly. “Maybe he’s just focusing on Lydia and Derek because he doesn’t think _you_ feel the same way about him that he feels about you. Just like you’re subjecting yourself to the world of pining for the very same reason!”

“You’re crazy.”

“no I’m not.”

“yes, you are!” Isaac shook his head, stretching his legs out and crossing his arms over his chest. “Dad thinks I should just date around.. but I don’t want to. I… I want to be with Stiles.”

Cora fell silent for a little while before she bumped her knee against his thigh, “hey… So.. what if you give the appearance that you’re dating?”

Isaac shifted his gaze to hers, lifting his eyebrows a little bit, “What do you mean?”

“I mean… like… Okay, you know how when people in high positions are gay and they have wives and stuff? A beard? Well, I could be your beard?” Cora suggested with a small laugh, and Isaac was pretty sure she was picturing her brother’s nearly perfectly sculpted facial hair.

He snorted a little bit, “Stop picturing Derek’s beard and tell me exactly how this is going to do anything.”

“Well, maybe if Stiles sees you dating, he’ll get all jealous and show you that he feels the same way that you do.” Cora snickered a little bit, probably still picturing Derek’s beard.

“But, I’ll be _dating_ you and Stiles wouldn’t entirely attempt breaking us up for his own personal gain. Otherwise, he would’ve made a move on Lydia a while ago.” Isaac told her, his voice kind of flat.

“Well, then that means that he’s not really in to Lydia the way that you think he is, y’know? Maybe he loves the _idea_ of Lydia, but, dude, you’re so much better than her!” Cora told him, slapping his thigh with her knuckles lightly, “C’mon, it’ll at least get the Sheriff off your back. He wont worry that you’re pining over Stiles and suffering, y’know?”

“Yeah… He was pretty worried about it all, but, still.”

“And it’s not like we’ll be doing anything we haven’t already.” Cora pointed out with a grin, “we hang out and go to movies and eat and all kinds of stuff together.”

“Except, generally, if you’re dating there is other stuff involved.” Isaac pointed out, “stuff that we’ve never done. Like making out and holding hands and touching all couple-like and probably even sex—“

“Woa, woa, Casanova, we do not have to have sex.” She laughed, shaking her head at him. “The kissing is fine, though, for, like, showy purposes, y’know? Unless you find you like making out with me,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him, making Isaac chuckle, “but, like, we’d really only have to be all coupley while we’re in public. Yknow, like.. for Stiles or the Sheriff to see.”

Isaac nodded a little bit, “but why would you do this? Don’t you have someone you like that you actually _want_ to date?” He asked her, his eyebrows knitting together a little bit.

“Not currently, no.” Cora shrugged a little bit, “and hey, if I do find someone I like, we can make up some fake relationship drama and Stiles can be there to _comfort_ you.” She laughed out, moving to lean against his side. “C’mon, it’ll be super fun.”

Isaac rolled his eyes, putting an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her to his side. “You want to fake-date me in order to get Stiles to notice me?”

“Yeah, seems legit, right?”

Isaac sighed heavily, shaking his head a little bit, “Not really, but I guess if I don’t agree you’re just going to randomly kiss me at school for Stiles to see, right?”

“You betcha.” Cora grinned, pinching his side lightly.

“Alright, but… should we maybe kiss each other beforehand so it doesn’t look all new and out of place?” Isaac asked, glancing over at her.

“You wanna kiss me, Lahey?” Cora asked with a smug little grin, moving to sit up a little bit to look at him more.

Isaac just stared at her, his expression, what he hoped to be, unimpressed. It made her toss her head back and laugh. She moved so that she was facing him, though, shifting closer to kind of alleviate the awkward positions that their bodies were in before she leaned forward and pressed her lips to Isaac’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long to post! Apparently it's kind of hard to write happier things when you're not exactly happy! Haha, but, I'm gonna try to get through all the fluff and not bog it down with my own lack of any mood at all, soooo there's that!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, if there are any little fluffy things you guys want to happen, just let me know. Either in a comment or sending me something on tumblr at Dylangasmsforusall! I will take any and all little plot bunnies in to consideration!! (meaning I'll most likely incorporate them into this or the next one I plan to write).
> 
> Next chapter is in Stiles's POV!! 
> 
> Also, leaving me love will get me to write more and more, quicker and quickerrr. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for staying with me! ^_^


	5. I told you that, I told you that I loved ya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has to deal with his feelings of Isaac and Cora being together.

Stiles couldn’t entirely say that he was shocked when Isaac stood up to Mr. Harris on his behalf. He could remember many nights where Isaac would go on little quiet rants about how much of a dick that Mr. Harris was, mainly because he was always taking out his dickish tendencies on Stiles; when Stiles didn’t do anything from the ordinary where Harris was concerned. He did his work, to near perfection, and he was usually quiet in class, if not a little inattentive. He’d only disrupted things a couple of times when he and Scott got the urge to cause a ruckus.

But Stiles wasn’t usually kid to cause a bunch of problems. But Harris always came up with a way to give Stiles a detention that he didn’t deserve. Maybe Harris’s problem wasn’t exactly Stiles, but maybe it was something completely different and Harris was just taking out his frustrations on a kid that he could get away with it with. Stiles did have some problems, stemmed from when he was a child and his record with the school was marked with fighting and disrupting and inattention. But Stiles had been medicated for years and it hadn’t really been an issue with any of his other teachers aside from Harris.

Maybe Harris just had a stick up his ass.

But, the point was, Isaac had put his own neck on the chopping block for Stiles’s sake. Stiles wasn’t entirely sure if he was comfortable with that. No, scratch that, he _wasn’t_ comfortable with that at all. Isaac didn’t need any more problems in chemistry because he wasn’t making good enough grades to get away with it like Stiles was. So, after the incident in Harris’s classroom, which may or may not have opened Stiles’s eyes a little more to how much he really cared for Isaac (on more of a brotherly level), Stiles came to the decision to make sure that Isaac’s grades were up to par.

It was the least that he could do, really, after Isaac put himself on the line for his honor or whatever the hell. Stiles knew that Isaac had some deep seeded anger issues, just like he did, but Isaac didn’t have Adderall to help him control his mood swings. He was good enough at it, sure, but he still got angry at the drop of a dime sometimes. And it wasn’t like Stiles could fault him; he’d been through a hell of a lot in his life. More than Stiles. Isaac would still wake up sometimes from suppressed memories turned in to nightmares and Stiles would have to silently move into Isaac’s room before Dad woke up and try to calm him down. Even though Stiles’s arms wrapping around Isaac usually calmed Isaac down almost immediately, Stiles still felt like shit for _having_ to calm Isaac down.

**+++**

“Stiles, I don’t get why you’re doing this-“

“It’s because I want you to _pass_ , Isaac!” Stiles was frustrated beyond belief. He’d been sitting at the kitchen table with Isaac for the past two hours trying to get him to understand what their homework for Chemistry consisted of. “I want you to get your grades up so that Harris can’t start ragging on you instead of me because you got in his face about how he was throwing my work away-“

“Well, you weren’t doing it!” Isaac raised his voice a little bit, turning equally frustrated blue eyes onto Stiles. “You were just sitting and taking it, Stiles, I wasn’t going to let him continue to ruin your grades because he’s got some kind of beef with you.”

“I don’t even think it’s about me, Zac, I just think he’s an asshole who likes to pick on the kid who’s got attention problems with a history of disrupting class.” Stiles trained his voice into a calm and collected tone, not wanting this to spiral into an argument any more than it already was. “I just… I don’t want you to fail because he turns his haterisms on to you.”

“If he does that, then I’ll just go to administration about him. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me!” Stiles dropped his hands onto the table before he sighed and lifted a hand and rubbed his palm over an eyebrow tiredly. “I just want you to get this and pass, okay?”

Isaac kind of deflated across from Stiles, sighing heavily as he nodded, “Okay… Okay. Let’s… Let’s just get back to this.”

Stiles nodded with a small sigh, shifting so that he could explain the homework to Isaac again. “Okay.”

Stiles wasn’t entirely sure how long the two of them sat in the kitchen doing homework. Stiles explained things over and over again until Isaac was confident that he understood what was going on. Stiles didn’t even realize what time it was until his dad came through the front door and moved through the house to drop his service weapon and his badge into the safe in his office.

Stiles startled a bit when Dad walked into the kitchen and looked around at the books strewn all over the table, “Boys, what’s up.”

“Shi—oot, Dad, you scared the crap out of me.” Stiles breathed out, rubbing at his eye with a palm as he sort of came back to a reality that wasn’t focused on Chemistry. “What time is it, even?”

“Around eight.” John replied with a small chuckle. “You boys been doing homework since you got home from school?”

“Yessir.” Isaac replied with a sheepish little smile, “Stiles was helping me understand it.”

“Ah, I see.” John smiled slowly at Isaac, a look on his face that Stiles couldn’t entirely comprehend, but, well, that was between Dad and Isaac. “Should we just order some pizza since it’ll be really late by the time we make dinner?”

“Only if you get a veggie pizza, Dad.” Stiles replied as he pushed himself up from the table and stretched his arms above his head. He could feel several vertebrae shift as he stretched, even a few of the joints connecting his sternum to his ribs. It was a startling feeling, but once Stiles got over the initial shock of that happening, he realized that it felt pretty damn good.

John let out a sigh and nodded, “alright, Stiles, veggie pizza for me and meat lovers for you two?”

**+++**

Stiles walked into the cafeteria, making a beeline for the line to get himself some chicken tenders and French fries. He’d been in such a hurry that morning that he hadn’t ate breakfast. Okay, no, in reality, Stiles had just forgotten to eat before he’d taken his pill and now he was starving for some food. He felt like his stomach was eating itself.

Grinning widely at the lunch lady who handed him his lunch, Stiles turned and headed to the cashier to pay for his meal and grab one of the tiny little water bottles. Then he headed over to the table that he, Scott, Isaac, and Cora usually took up. When he walked over, he noticed a couple new faces sitting with them. Boyd and Erica were basically outcasts that Scott and Isaac, maybe with the help of Scott’s new girlfriend, Allison, must’ve talked into joining their table.

He shrugged it off though, making his way over to his seat across from Isaac and plopping down. He didn’t even waste time greeting everyone before he basically shoved an entire chicken tender into his mouth and started chewing it, sinking down into his chair in relief at finally having something to eat. He didn’t even notice that pretty much everyone at the table was staring at him until Allison stifled a giggle into her hand.

Stiles’s eyes shot up as he looked around, “What?” He asked after moment of staring at all of them staring at him.

“You, uh.. good?” Scott asked with a crooked smile.

“Yeah, man… just… hungry,” Stiles said at length, glancing around the table and then looking down at his food. He was vaguely aware that part of a chicken tender was hanging out of his mouth.

“Well, this is Erica and Boyd,” Scott said, gesturing to each in turn.

Stiles turned his attention to the new faces and smiled around his chicken tender, attempting to make it the least bit gross as possible. “hey,” He held out a hand for each of them to shake, only noticing Erica’s faint blush a little bit before he turned back to his food and dug right in.

Stiles kind of tuned out the conversations going around the table, focusing on finishing his lunch at pace that wouldn’t make him sick. He did look across the table at Isaac when he slid the rest of his food towards him, smiling all knowingly at Stiles. Stiles just kind of returned the smile with a nod and pulled Isaac’s left overs towards him, setting about eating those too because, yes, he was still hungry. Isaac usually knew when Stiles had forgotten to eat; Stiles wasn’t sure if it was because Isaac was watching for it, or because he could just tell by the way Stiles was acting; but either way, when Stiles had forgotten to eat for however long, Isaac was the first to hand over the rest of his food, whether it was at home or out in public.

Stiles kinda loved him.

And what? Stiles paused with a French fry halfway to his mouth when the thought hit him. He raised his eyes to look across the table at Isaac, but his body kind of went rigid when he saw Cora lean sideways and press a light kiss to Isaac’s lips.

Stiles kind of felt like he was going to be sick. He dropped the food on the cardboard tray-cup thing and pushed it away as he grabbed his bag with his other hand and stood up.

The movement got the attention of everyone at the table, all of them turning to look at Stiles with varying expressions ranging from concerned to slightly amused. “Stiles?” Scott asked, his expression of the concerned variety.

“I-uh- I have some things to do. Like.. yesterday.” Stiles told Scott quickly, keeping his gaze away from Isaac and Cora as he pulled his bag onto his shoulder and pushed his chair away so that he could get out and away from the table as quickly as possible. But he was sure he was acting strange, so he added, “too much W.o.W and not enough homework… or something.” He mumbled the last bit and turned, walking briskly away from the table.

When he’d managed to get away from the table, Stiles walked as quickly as he could out of the cafeteria so that it didn’t seem like he was literally running away from something. Something that happened to be his _brother_ like figure kissing on one of his best friends. It shouldn’t even feel like this. _Stiles_ shouldn’t be feeling like this. Isaac was family, his brother, and had been since he was five years old. How did he have the right to feel like _that_ about Isaac? And it was good, right? That Isaac had a girlfriend. It was really good.

Stiles could just push aside his feelings and ignore the problem until it went away. Yeah. He was a huge fan of that plan of action. It was what he usually did, anyway. Right. That’s what he’d do. He wouldn’t think about how he’d just come to the realization that he loved Isaac. And of course he loved Isaac, they were family, but the realization hadn’t been the familial type of love. No… Quite different. It was _that_ kind of love. The kind of love that he was sure he had for Lydia and sometimes Derek. But… No.. Because, if he just realized that he loved Isaac in that way, then, he’d never actually felt like that for Derek or Lydia…

Right?

**+++**

For about a month after Stiles saw the kiss exchange in the cafeteria, he’d pretty much done as best as he could to avoid seeing Isaac and Cora together. It didn’t entirely go as planned when the two would be sprawled out in the living room after school or in the kitchen doing homework, or god forbid in Isaac’s bedroom with the door cracked and music blaring. Stiles still tried his damnedest to stay the hell away from the two of them. 

Because he couldn’t see the two of them all over each other, okay? It wasn’t good for his mental health. Or emotional health. Or whatever. He didn’t know. He just knew that it kind of hurt to see them together, and it wasn’t the kind of annoyed she-shouldn’t-be-with-him like it was with Lydia and Jackson. No, it was more of a shit-that-actually-physically-smarts-a-little.

Stiles wasn’t really the jealous type of person; otherwise he would have been super jealous over the years having _three_ best friends to split time with. He would have been a little shit when Isaac came to move in with them when they were kids. He wouldn’t have tried to kick Jackson’s ass when they were in primary school because he was picking on Scott and Isaac. No, he wasn’t really a jealous person.

But seeing Cora and Isaac together? Seeing his dad give them a happy little smile as he sat in his chair and they sat on the couch all cuddled together? Yeah, he was jealous about that. Not even so much that his dad looked happy for them, he was glad that his dad had a happy smile curving his lips; it was more so that _Stiles_ kind of wanted to be the one cuddled up against Isaac, the one putting that smile on his dad’s face.

Yet, he wasn’t, and Stiles was just going to ignore the problem until it went away, right? Totally!

Except that wasn’t really working. Especially when he was smacked in the face with Isaac and Cora lying on the couch watching a movie one day when he came home from working at the public library in town. He couldn’t even begin to describe how it sort of punched him in the gut that _he_ wanted to be in Cora’s place. Not to mention, he had to deal with a bunch of unruly kids at the library earlier because their parents thought it was a good idea to leave them there unattended and let Stiles deal with their massive mess. Just. No.

So, seeing that? Didn’t do much for his mood.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Stiles groaned when he walked through the door and spotted them. His eyes rolled back in his head so hard he was vaguely concerned about them popping out. 

The two on the couch looked over at him, two different expressions on their face. Concerned from Isaac, and the sassy-Hale special from Cora. Stiles snorted a bit, waving a hand at them dismissively, “you couldn’t, like, do that somewhere else? Isn’t that shit supposed to be done in private and all?”

“What? Watching a movie?” Cora cocked an eyebrow at him with a slow smirk, “I’m pretty sure it’s not that big of a deal that we’re watching a movie, Stiles.”

“And I’m pretty sure that I don’t want to see you two all over each other every fucking time I turn around.” Stiles snapped, kicking off his shoes with a little more force than he intended. They clambered against the wall before settling as he just kept moving and threw his book bag down against the wall before he moved in to the kitchen, griping all the way.

“You don’t have to be jealous, Stiles!” Cora called with an amused laugh in her tone, “you could find someone, too, y’know!”

Stiles had to brace his hands on the counter and breathe deeply through his nose before he said something he really regretted. Cora was one of his best friends, after all, and he didn’t really want to just push her away and piss her off because he couldn’t handle her being all over Isaac. So, he just stood there and forced himself to calm down, clenching the counter to stop his hands from shaking.

“Stiles?”

Stiles startled, whirling around to see Isaac standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, his expression wary. Stiles blew out a breath and looked at Isaac with a trained calm. “What?”

“You…You okay?”

“I’m just peachy,” Stiles replied, false cheer in his tone as he nodded at Isaac.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just don’t really wanna see you two all over each other all the time.” Stiles told him with a small shrug, turning his back to Isaac and rummaging the cabinets for a snack. “Or ever.” He muttered.

He heard a faint sigh before sounds of Isaac leaving the room. Stiles bowed his head a little bit, knowing that Isaac had heard the muttered words, too. Now, he was an asshole for sure.

**+++**

Three more weeks later, Stiles was in the kitchen with Isaac, making Kit Kat brownies for Erica’s birthday. He hadn’t really spoken to Isaac much since he kind of blew up on him and Cora for being all coupley in the living room that day. He still felt like an ass about it all, but he wouldn’t apologize for being uncomfortable, and he wouldn’t say more shit about it, so he generally just avoided the two of them together as much as possible.

The others had taken to notice it, as well, but Stiles just ignored the problem like he usually did. It generally worked well for him, anyway. Except when he was with Isaac and it seemed like nothing had even changed. He’d act like he didn’t entirely have a girlfriend at all, messing around with Stiles, bumping their hips, grabbing Stiles around the neck… just generally being an adorable shit that made Stiles’s insides melt with how fucking much Stiles really cared for him (and couldn’t have him).

Stiles could remember growing up with him and Isaac helping his mom in the kitchen. He remembered the huge cookie dough fights that sometimes broke out, or licking the brownie batter from the bowl when mom was finished pouring it into the pan. He could remember her teaching them how to chop things, albeit carefully, and helping her stack up the lasagna or roll the chicken in bread crumbs for Chicken parmesan. He remembered playing with the vegetables while she cooked before she snuck them away from him and poured them into the pots to cook.

He used to love cooking with his mom, baking with her especially. He still always put music on when he was cooking. It made him feel a little closer to mom. He knew Isaac loved it too, because he would keep this warm smile on his face, his expression soft with remembrance and love as he hummed along to the oldies that Mom used to listen to a lot.

Stiles froze when the all too familiar song started playing through the speakers of the iPod dock, his hands paused where they were peeling the wrappers off of Kit Kat Bars. He barely heard Isaac’s sharp intake of breath as his heart started pounding loudly in his ears. The sweet melodic notes of “unchained melody” only just flowing past the sound of his heartbeat, Stiles could feel his hands starting to shake. He could feel the blood working extra hard to pump through his body, his breath coming a little shorter as memories of dancing on his mother’s feet around the kitchen to this song filled the front of his mind.

She’d always give a shrill laugh when this song came on, quickly moving to scoop the closest child up, setting him on her feet so that she could dance them around the kitchen. It was one of his first memories of anything, dancing around on his mom’s feet as she sang in her soft lovely voice to the song, smiling down lovingly at him. He’d never even been jealous when she’d started doing it to Isaac, either, because she always looked so happy doing it.

The next thing that Stiles knew, there were hands prying the candy from his own, gently turning him until he was enveloped in Isaac’s arms, his face pressed against Isaac’s collarbone. He tried to catch his breath, and he didn’t even realize that his eyes had been watering until he felt the slide of wet skin against his cheek. 

“M’sorry,” Stiles mumbled, sliding his arms around Isaac’s waist tightly.

“S’okay… I miss her too.” Isaac mumbled right back, his voice soft where his lips were just by Stiles’s ear.

Stiles fell silent, just holding on to Isaac tightly. He was quiet until Isaac started humming the song, swaying them a little bit, which caused Stiles to let out a snort followed by a little wet laugh, his grip tightening on Isaac. Isaac just chuckled back at him, moving them a little more prominently to the music as he hummed, dancing the two of them around the kitchen slowly.

When Isaac started to full out sing the words softly, Stiles was pretty much openly crying against Isaac’s collar. It wasn’t gross snot crying, just silent, open tears coming from his eyes as Isaac danced them around the kitchen, just like his mom had. It was just a little bit sadder than it had been all those years ago, but being held close to someone, listening to the words and letting them sink in and comfort him all around, with everything that was going on? Stiles couldn’t stop the tears from turning from sadness to happiness as he just held on to Isaac and was held in return.

“Isaac…” Stiles mumbled, listening to Isaac’s smooth voice sing the words to the song, “I.. I love you.”

Stiles hadn’t meant to say the words. Even though he’d said them many, many times in the past, the tone of the words had come out completely different. It had come across as the kind of love that Stiles was trying to avoid until it went away.

And now he’d told Isaac that he loved him. Not only that he loved him, but that he was _in_ love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long (and is kind of shorter than usual!), guys! I've had quite an eventful couple of weeks! Visiting with my best friend and god children for a week since her husband was just sent off to Korea! And running all around dealing with a six, two, and sixteen month old is a bit of hard time! xD Not to mention Chloe, the six yr old, was constantly attached to me and wouldn't leave me alone even to shower. Hahaha But its all good, I missed my babies, and she hadn't seen me in nearly three years so! Yay!!
> 
> Also, having to deal with college shit. I'm going to tell you, I'm about ten thousand percent done with my school! I had to essentially beg my Gramma for tuition money, and then jump through five million hoops for her to give it to me, then she forgot my name to write on the check and I had to explain things about four time within a thirty minute interval and just sdjhbdfjhbdfg stress migraines, and horrible periods, and stressful family bullshit that I'm also ten thousand percent done with... 
> 
> Just. Sorryy!! I'll prolly be writing the next chapters while I'm in class all bored and stuff, so just bear with me since School is starting tomorrow and Leave me lots of comments and stuff to get me through all of this stuff!
> 
> Also, little plot ideas you guys want thrown in as a shout out are all golden and I will totes do that! Just leave 'em in a comment or shoot 'em at my inbox on Tumblr ( Dylangasmsforusall) and stuff!!
> 
> huuuggee thank you for reading and leaving Kudos, comments, and bookmarking this thinnngg. =D


	6. You felt the weight of the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Short chapter! And I'm gonna post another short one right after because I kind of need Stiles's POV to have Cora put Stiles in his place! Woooo!! So, YEAH! Two short chapters hopefully by monday!! ^___^

Isaac's body went rigid when he heard Stiles's words, also feeling Stiles go still against him as well. His mind went completely blank for a few seconds before everything came rushing in all at once. The static silence was quickly replaced with fuzzy white noise before all of his thoughts just started running around at the same time. 

_What?_

_Did he really just say that?_

_He loves me?_

_No, it's probably because of the song and memories._

_It's cause I'm grounding him once again._

_He doesn't **love** me! He can't! I would have known, right!? _

_No, that was platonic love._

_He's said he loves me before!_

_That's gotta be what he means..._

_But what if..._

"uh... What?" Isaac kind of croaked out, pulling back away from Stiles just enough to look down and catch the tint of pink coloring Stiles's cheeks. Isaac didn't want to pull away. He didn't want the moment to end. He wanted to keep stiles against him, dancing around the kitchen, holding him close. What he didn't want was for Stiles to move away from him; to watch Stiles's expression morph into a carefully blank mask right before his eyes. 

"You know... I love you, man." Stiles cleared his throat a little bit as he put a good few feet between them. "it's not really a shock, dude... I've said it plenty of times. You... Uh... You're family." 

Isaac felt his heart drop into his stomach from where it was previously lodged in his throat. He tried to pull a page from Stiles's book and school his expression, but he was pretty sure that he failed pretty miserably. He didn't want Stiles’s explanations or excuses. He wanted that sentiment to be true so bad that his chest physically ached from that sense of pure want. 

"Oh... Uh.. Right." Isaac forced out of his throat, which felt like it was closing up on him. "oh..shit, I've gotta go meet Cora-" 

"I thought we were gonna make dinner for Dad?" Stiles looked up at him with wide amber eyes; and Isaac kind of wanted to get lost in them forever. Stiles kind of looked shocked that Isaac was going to leave. 

"Well, um, I promised her that I'd take her to dinner.. I, uh, temporarily forgot while we were making Erica’s brownies. I was kind of excited to try them and give them to her. But, the batter is ready and all you gotta do is put the kit kats between layers of brownie mix and you can do that right?" Isaac knew that Stiles was and would always be a better cook and baker than he was. 

He really just needed to get away from the whole situation. And maybe cry into Cora's pillows because even if Stiles did love him, he completely denied it to Isaac's face, and, well, that shit just plain ol' hurt. Especially now that the flush had darkened across Stiles's cheeks and spread to his ears, as if Isaac leaving was upsetting him. Isaac really just needed to get away. Like, now. 

"So.. Yeah.. I'm late." Isaac kind of coughed into his hand before he made an aborted attempt to hug Stiles goodbye like he always did. But he caught himself and just turned, walking out of the kitchen. He headed out of the house and grabbed his bike up as quickly as he could. 

**+++**

Isaac didn't care that the bike ride to the Hale house was longer than he usually rode his bike for. Cora usually picked him up or came over to his house when they hang out, but today he just couldn't wait to get out. He couldn't be around Stiles after those words left his mouth in such an emotionally charged moment. He just couldn't do it. 

Stiles had once tried to explain what a panic attack felt like; like he was drowning or there was this immense pressure on his chest; like he was just crippled by the onslaught of panic and fear and desperation to just get one satisfying breath of air into his lungs. For the involuntary thoughts that flood his mind to just go away; even though, no matter how hard he tries, he can't get the thoughts, the negativity, the fatal sense of foreboding from being unable to breathe, to go away. He tried to explain how all rational thought just flew out of his mind and was replaced with singular thoughts of the amount of pain coursing through him, or the things that triggered the attacks; like when he heard dad say that he had taken the rest of mom's time with them. Everything was amplified and it all just made it seem worse than it is. 

Isaac kind of felt like that when he finally reached the Hale house. He felt like his throat was closing up, that there was something akin to an elephant sitting on his chest. His eyes had been stinging since the moment that he'd walked away from Stiles. All he could really think about was how much Stiles _didn't_ mean those three words. How he'd immediately stiffened up before moving away and jumping into an explanation on how he _didn't mean it_. 

He tripped up onto the porch and knocked on the door with knuckles that were sore from squeezing the handle bars of his bike. He startled a little bit when the door opened to reveal Derek. Isaac ignored when Derek's face contorted into something of worry or concern, or maybe smug satisfaction like he knew what had just happened-- No, Isaac was projecting now. Anyway, he pushed past Derek and basically ran up the stairs to Cora’s room. 

With disregard to any form of greeting, Isaac closed the door as he moved forward into the room, crossing it and face-planting against Cora's bedspread like he carried the weight of the world on his back. He barely missed Cora where she was sitting on her bed with her laptop in her lap, probably cruising through YouTube. 

"Uh.. Hey?" Cora ventured, poking the back of Isaac's head, "were we supposed to meet up?" Isaac mumbled something unintelligible into the comforter, causing Cora to let out some weird noise in the back of her throat, "what was that now?" 

"No." Isaac reiterated, lifting his head enough to turn is so that he could look at Cora and she could hear what he'd said. 

"Then why--Ew! Omigod! You're getting your gross sweat all over my bed, Zac!" Cora squealed a little, though Isaac knew that she'd never admit it at all, "Sit up!" 

Isaac groaned as he pushed himself up and sat with his legs folded underneath him. He kinda just looked at Cora with what he knew was probably a completely pathetic look, which made Cora close her laptop, set it aside, and shift around until she was facing him. Then she asked him, "what happened?" 

Isaac let out a little whine from the back of his throat, looking down at his hands where they were twisted up in his lap. He didn't speak right off of the bat, feeling the whole situation tightening up his chest once again. But Cora's gentle nudging against his thigh made him clear his throat and speak. 

"Stiles said he loved me." 

Cora opened her mouth to reply or squeal or something, but Isaac was quick to fill in the gaps, "and then he pulled away from me and declared that it was totally familial or some bullshit. I don't really remember the fine details 'cause my mind was going rampant, but... He looked all freaked out from saying it.. Like.. Maybe i thought he meant.. Well.. Like i feel about him--"

"Isaac, he does--" 

"No, he doesn't.." Isaac cut in, "and I.....think it's okay-- Well, it's not okay because I, uh, I feel like that _you're family_ ripped me apart inside... But.. But if he doesn't feel the same way.. Then I'll.. I'll just push my own feeling aside and just be there as his friend or whatever, y'know. I can do that. I'll do that. Cuz he... He doesn't feel the same way--" 

"Zac-- Zac!" Cora's hands shot out and grasped the sides of Isaac's face tightly, making him focus on her gaze. She kept her grip on his tight so that he was unable to look at anything other than her eyes.

Isaac just stared at her, his eyes flooding continually with tears. He didn’t mean to be such an emotional wreck, per say, but he couldn’t help it. He was just so hung up on Stiles that he couldn’t even take the fact that Stiles pulled away from him and said that he was family. He hadn’t said ‘I Love You’ like Isaac had wanted him to, but he was acknowledging that Isaac was important and that he _did_ care about it.

Cora must have seen the tears forming because she brushed her thumbs over his high cheek bones and made a small soothing ‘shushing’ sound between her teeth. “Shh, shh, C’mon, Zac. Everything’s gonna be okay. I might kill Stiles before the end of this, but everything’ll end up all right, okay?”

Isaac shook his head, closing his eyes because he didn’t want to see the sheer determination that Cora had behind her eyes, believing that everything would indeed be okay in the end. And maybe it would, but Isaac didn’t see it. He truly didn’t.

“I really don’t think that’ll make anything better, Cor.” Isaac mumbled, shaking his head as much as he could with it being clasped between her hands. “I really.. I really don’t.”

“You’re just upset right now.” Cora told him, still smoothing her thumbs over his cheeks lightly. Isaac relaxed only minimally, though, sucking in a sharp breath and trying to keep himself under control. It wasn’t really working, though.

“He doesn’t.. He just doesn’t—You didn’t see the look on his face, Cor.” Isaac sighed, pulling away from her and rolling to lie down on her bed, pressing his face into her pillows before turning his head towards her so that she could hear him, “he looked completely mortified to have said it like it could have been taken out of context.”

“I don’t know, darlin’, I wasn’t there.” Cora told him, frowning a little as she moved to lie down on her side, facing him. “But I do know that Stiles cares about you. He wouldn’t be so bent out of shape about you and me _dating_ if he didn’t, okay? Maybe he just doesn’t know how to deal with it, just like you don’t.”

Isaac took a shaking deep breath and opened his eyes to look at her, trying not to give her massive puppy eyes in the process, “what do you mean?”

Cora watched him, reaching out and brushing some of the curls off of his forehead before tracing her fingers through the hair behind his ear gently. “You two have grown up essentially as brothers, Zac. It’s not…. It’s not really customary to feel that way about your brother, y’know? You love them, yes, but it’s not _that_ kind of love. You don’t…. You don’t think about them when you’re having some alone time, if you know what I mean, y’know? And…. You don’t just stop hanging out with them if they get a boyfriend or girlfriend—“

“He didn’t stop hanging out with me because I’m ‘dating’ you.” Isaac pointed out, frowning.

“He hasn’t been hanging around with either of us nearly as often as he used to—“

“I live with him—“

“Yes, but you’re not around each other every second of the day anymore—“

“We were never around each other for every second of the day!”

“Isaac! That’s not really the fucking point,” Cora pointed out, smacking his bicep lightly as she shook her head. “You’re not listening, okay? What you’re feeling, it’s not _normal_ per say, but it’s not bad either. You may have grown up together in the same house, but you’re not actually blood brothers, okay? And neither of you really know how to think of each other as any other way other than as brothers.”

“So, you’re saying, we’re both feeling the same thing, we’re just being weird about it because we don’t actually understand anything?”

“Omigod.” Cora rubbed a hand over her face, letting out a huge, long suffering sigh. “You’re both idiots.” She lifted her head, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at him. “Look. Listen to me, don’t even worry about it, okay? I’ll make sure he gets his head out of his ass and everything falls into the right place, okay? Just.. don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of this.”

Isaac wasn’t really sure what the hell Cora was going on about; all he could really think about was how mortified Stiles had looked when he’d stepped away from Isaac in the kitchen. He didn’t understand what she was really getting at, just that Stiles didn’t feel the same way about him as Isaac felt about Stiles. He just…. God he wanted Stiles to feel the same way.


	7. Fell Off Your Shoulders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally posting the last three chapters of this fic!! I hope you all enjoy it! Thanks so much for sticking with me! I love you all! ^_^

Stiles had been more than a little bit wounded when Isaac kind of just abandoned him in the kitchen with Erica's unbaked brownies. The two had made the plans of making Erica’s birthday brownies and then making dinner for Dad as well as themselves, taking dad his dinner and then doing whatever the hell that they wanted afterwards. Stiles couldn't really blame him, per se, but it still hurt like a mother fucker to have Isaac just leave when Stiles had inadvertently told him that he loved him. It wasn't that Stiles didn't-- God, _did_ he love Isaac for real- but Stiles was pretty sure that Isaac didn't love him. Not like that, anyway. 

And it wasn’t as if Stiles was really in his right mind. He could have played it off as that, maybe, but he hadn’t. He’d been emotionally compromised as it were, with major feelings punching through his chest about his mom and the song, and being held close in Isaac’s arms hadn’t helped in the slightest bit. Stiles wouldn’t have changed that certain aspect for the situation, though, and he knew that deep down to his core; but that didn’t change the fact that Isaac had had that _look_ on his face. And if there was something that hurt Stiles more than anything, it might have been that look. He didn’t ever want to see it again.

So, Stiles had had to back track and make it a platonic declarations of love kind of thing as his heart and mind just went speeding off into the horizon, leaving him all sorts of flustered, confused, and frankly, freaking the fuck out. He’d had to go against everything that was coursing through his veins and say that he only loved Isaac as a brother, a friend, instead of how he really felt. It wasn’t something that Stiles ever wanted to do, but he also had never ever wanted to make Isaac uncomfortable around him, with him, and Stiles would do _anything_ for Isaac, to make him feel at home and safe and loved- even if it was showing the kind of love that brothers or friends would show instead of the clearly-undoubtedly unrequited love that Stiles felt.

He tried to ease his racing mind and trembling hands a little bit by finishing up Erica's brownies, but in all reality, Stiles's body was on automatic, just going through the motions; he’d been working in the kitchen since he was a child and he knew his way around even when his mind wasn’t on the task at hand. He didn't really have any idea what he was doing while he was finishing up the brownies, his mind just running as fast and rampant as it could, overanalyzing everything that had just happened. He couldn't stop the thoughts, nor could he focus on anything other than what had happened, and had been happening over the years. 

He felt like a complete asshole for the look that had crossed behind Isaac's eyes when he'd pulled away from him; and Stiles was sure that the look was stemmed from the words that he'd said and not how he'd quickly pulled away and fixed the meaning behind those three little words. He was positive that Isaac looked upset about Stiles saying that he loved him, because Isaac didn't feel that way about him. Stiles was absolutely certain that Isaac had been put off by the idea that the implication behind his words was more than platonic, brotherly love. 

And he couldn't get that thought out of his head no matter how hard he tried. 

He couldn't get off of the thought that Isaac had been _upset_ about Stiles possibly loving him. 

Like real love, and not that familial bullshit that he had with Scott or Cora. Even Lydia and Jackson. Because even though Stiles kept up the facade of being completely in love and overly smitten with Lydia, he hadn't felt that way in quite a while. He had been silently stewing in his own emotions, slowly realizing that he cared for Isaac in more ways than just as family. And he felt terrible about it because Isaac had been living with his family since they were five years old! He'd been there when everything serious happened, everything happy, and everything bad, or whatever the fuck. He'd _been there_ for it all! 

_and that could be more than familial love, too._.

No. He couldn't let himself think like that. He couldn't let himself hope, and get his hopes up that Isaac might feel the same way. It was too big of a 'might' in this situation. It could ruin all kinds of things, in Stiles's point of view. That wasn't something that he really wanted to happen; so he'd changed his meaning around to something that Isaac could handle. Something that wouldn't bring that look to Isaac's face. Something that wouldn't change everything that happened between them, everything that would happen. 

Stiles could feel his chest tightening up as his mind continued to run rampant, but he forced himself to breathe through it, calming himself down to the point where the panic wouldn't take hold of him. He'd learned over the years that he couldn't let himself be thrown into a panic attack at every stressful thing, even if he was susceptible to it-- he just had to force calm upon himself so that he didn't drown in his own panic. He focused his energies on breathing and doing something else to distract himself from the feelings whirling around inside of him. 

So, Stiles went back to finishing Erica's brownies and putting them in the oven. Once he'd put them in the oven, he cleaned up the mess that he and Isaac had made. Once that was clean, Stiles remembered that he had to make some dinner for his dad and take it to him, so he focused on making a heart healthy meal for his dad. And then once he'd packed up his dad's dinner into plastic containers, Stiles cleaned up his mess and went about stress cleaning nearly the entire house. 

At least his dad wouldn't come home to a dirty house when he got off of work. 

 

**+++**

 

The next day at school, Stiles carried the brownies into the lunchroom to give to Erica. He smiled as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek, muttering a 'Happy Birthday, Catwoman' against her skin as he slid the brownies in front of her. Erica let out a squeal and jumped up from her chair, wrapping her arms around Stiles's neck in a tight hug. 

Which is when Stiles noticed Isaac and Cora walking into the cafeteria hand in hand. Isaac was wearing the clothes that he'd been wearing the night before he'd left, and Stiles's gut immediately dropped down to his toes. Isaac had stayed with Cora after their apparently-last-minute-dinner-date last night. Where, it wasn't unusual for Isaac or Cora to stay with the other overnight, it was the first time Stiles had seem them looking close as ever, a little different in his perspective. Stiles, irrational on some occasions, immediately assumed that they hadn't _planned_ to stay with Cora and just happened to get some certain things going and stayed anyway. Stiles, irrational as he may be, assumed that Isaac and Cora had boned. 

Which, made him squeeze Erica to him a little more just because he needed to feel a little bit grounded. He turned his head and buried it against her hair, taking a deep breath to keep himself from getting a little bit nauseous. 

"Stiles?" Erica whispered, apparently feeling his distress, "you okay?" She asked, her hands rubbing up and down his back lightly. To anyone else, it would just look like they were still hugging over her birthday brownies, but Stiles and Erica knew it was a little bit more. 

"I, uh... Happy birthday." Stiles pulled back, smoothing her hair down from where he'd messed it up, "happy birthday, okay? I'll see you in class later." He pressed a light kiss to her temple before he grabbed his things and high tailed it out of the cafeteria, despite Scott's protestations at him leaving after just getting there, for not speaking to anyone aside from Erica. 

Stiles made it to the picnic tables outside in the little courtyard before he heard a voice calling his name. He just kept walking until he reached one and sat down heavily on one of the stone benches. 

"Stiles, man, come on." Scott huffed a little bit as he moved over to sit across from Stiles at the table, dropping his arms heavily against the table top. He was a little bit winded from running after Stiles. 

"What's up?” Scott asked, looking across the table at Stiles. Stiles sighed heavily as he looked at the table top instead of Scott's puppy dog eyes. 

"Nothing's going on." 

"That's a lie." Scott scoffed at him, reaching across the table to lightly punch Stiles's forearm. "C'mon, man, I'm your best bro, you can talk to me about anything." 

"I... I know, Scott," Stiles nodded, lifting his eyes to look across the table at Scott, "I just.... I don't really wanna talk about it--" 

"You're gonna make yourself sick if you keep what's bothering you inside." Scott told him, "C'mon, man, I know you. You analyze and over analyze everything until you make yourself sick with it all, alright? Just tell me what's going on. I can help, I promise. Even if it's just to give you an ear." 

Stiles watched Scott speak to him with his massive puppy dog eyes, his restraint falling just a little bit. Stiles usually prided himself about how Scott’s puppy dog eyes never got to him, not anymore at least, but now? Now they were digging into him, breaking his resolve a little bit. "What if you think different of me?" 

"C'mon, dude, that's not gonna happen. You're my brother, I'd never think differently of you." Scott told him, sincerity written all over his slightly crooked face. 

"I.... Uh... Told Isaac I loved him last night." Stiles mumbled, dropping his eyes to his hands on the table. 

"So? You tell Isaac you love him all the time, dude. You've been around him since you were five. Of course you love him." 

Stiles lifted his head to stare at Scott with a 'seriously' type of look on his face. "No, Scott, I mean... I told him _I loved him_ last night." Stiles reiterated with a little more emphasis for Scott's sometimes-slow brain. "Like... Not like a brother like I should, but I don't... I do love him like that, yeah, but, it's more than that, man." 

"Oh." 

"Yeah, _oh_. And he's all over Cora and doesn't feel that way about me, and I can't.... The look on his face, Scott. I had to quickly back track and correct my fucking Freudian slip, and then he went off for a date with Cora and I had to finish Erica's brownies and shit by myself. And he didn't even come home last night so I'm pretty sure they fucked or something." 

Scott reached out and wrapped his fingers around Stiles's wrist, "dude, woah, calm down a little bit. I'm sure it's not as bad as you think it is--" 

"He looked _panicked_ , Scott!" Stiles may or may not have squeaked a little bit on the words, his eyes wide and a little panicky, too. 

"Stiles, I.... I don't think this situation is as bad as you think it is, man. I don't even think Isaac and Cora have had sex, man, c'mon." Scott squeezed his wrist a little before pulling his hand back to his side of the table. "Do you think maybe you're just looking way too much in to this and Isaac didn't even care that you'd said you loved him, even in that context?" 

Stiles shook his head a little bit, lifting his hands to push his fingers into his hair a bit roughly. "I dunno, Scott. Maybe? It could be like that, but I really, honestly, don't think that it is! I think that he just looks at me like a brother and if he _loves_ anyone, it'd be Cora because _he's dating Cora_." 

"Maybe he's dating her because-" 

"No okay, just stop. I already feel like shit about all of this and I don't need you to say that he's dating her just to show me that he's not interested in me, okay?" 

"No, Stiles, that's not what I--" 

"I have to do some work," Stiles interrupted again, reaching into his book bag and pulling out his chemistry book and note book. 

"Stiles-" 

"Please, Scott, I have to do this work before lunch ends and class starts, alright?" Stiles was already turning the pages and started to work out some problems, keeping his eyes off of Scott as he ducked his head down a little bit. 

Scott sighed after a moment and pushed himself up from the table, walking slowly back towards the cafeteria, or so Stiles assumed. 

 

**+++**

 

After school that day, Stiles had just about ran to his jeep and hopped in, almost burning rubber to get out of the parking lot in time to _not_ have to drive Isaac home. He was pretty sure that he would get a ride from Cora anyway, but still. Stiles didn’t think that he could deal with seeing Isaac after he’d spent the entire night with Cora after Stiles had told him that he loved him.

_God, He’d told him that he loved him_.

What the fucking shit was that?! How could he have been so goddamn stupid as to let those words slip out of his mouth? Granted, it had been in the heat of the moment, but still. Stiles couldn’t even blame it on anything other than his brain lacking a filter. He couldn’t blame in on shit.

That might’ve been the worst part. He couldn’t actually get away from what he’d said. Sure, he could make it seem all platonic and shit, but that wouldn’t make the fact that he’d said those words go away, would it? No. And Stiles _still_ had to watch Isaac with Cora. And he didn’t hate Cora, no, far from it. He’d loved her since she’d joined his, Isaac’s, and Scott’s little group. 

But….

He was _jealous_ of her. Because she got to have what _he_ wanted. Just like he despised Jackson because he had gotten Lydia (and treated her like shit, but that was beside the point). Just like he despised Ms. Blake for being able to date Derek, who Stiles still had soft feelings for (despite the fact that he was sure that she was just using Derek, but, that was none of Stiles’s business, was it?).

The point might have been that Stiles never really got what he wanted. 

He should have been used to that by now, but, well, old habits and all.

Before Stiles knew it, he was pulling up into the drive at his house, shutting the engine of the jeep off and climbing out of the car. He didn’t entirely pay attention to his surroundings, which was probably why he missed his dad’s cruiser sitting in the driveway. He might’ve veered off straight for the stairs had he realized his dad was home and not gone straight for the kitchen. Because, honestly, Stiles was starving. He hadn’t eaten lunch that day, or breakfast (since Isaac hadn’t been there to remind him to eat with his pill so that he didn’t forget and end up starving for the rest of the day), and he was in desperate need for an after school snack.

He almost shrieked when he entered the kitchen and made it all the way to the fridge before his dad said, “Stiles” and scared the shit out of him. He whirled around, his book bag flying off of his shoulder and almost buckling his knee from the impact of several thick textbooks slamming into the side of his leg.

“ _Jesus_ , Dad, warn a guy,” Stiles sighed out, relieved that it _was_ just his dad and not either a murderer lurking inside his house to gain vengeance by killing the Sheriff’s kid or, well, _Isaac_. Stiles still lived by his motto of ignoring the problem until it went away. He was hard _core_ ignoring this problem. Kind of. Maybe.

“Well, if you maybe paid attention to your surroundings like I know I taught you, you might have realized that you weren’t alone.” John told him, amusement glinting in his soft blue eyes. “Why’re you rushing to the fridge anyway? Did you forget to eat today?”

Stiles may have meeped a little bit.

“Dammit, Stiles, I’ve told you a million times if I’ve told you once that you _have_ to remember to eat with those pills you’ve got to take.” John sighed heavily, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes. “Do I have to worry about you not eating again?”

“Wh-No! Dad, c’mon.” Stiles rolled his eyes at his dad, turning to open the fridge to dig through for some sort of snack. “It’s not even that big of a deal. It was one day. And at lunch I just… didn’t have time. I had things to do.”

“Like, say, homework you didn’t do while you were up in your room angsting all night long?” John asked, lifting his eyebrows at his son.

“What? I was not!” Stiles hit his head on the fridge in his haste to get out of it and turn to glare at his father. “The hell—I mean, what do you know about _angst_??”

“I know a few things.” John replied, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “You wanna tell me what had you so upset?”

“Uh…. Do I have to answer that?” Stiles asked, lifting his own eyebrows a little bit as he peaked at his dad through narrowed eyes.

“I would like you to, yes,” John nodded, keeping his stare on Stiles.

“oh, well, Uh……. Maybe I kinda have… relationship stuff going on.” Stiles mumbled, deciding to go raid the pantry instead of the fridge, since it looked like he would need to go grocery shopping.

John cleared his throat a little bit, shifting a little uncomfortably, “Well, son, you know I’m always here to talk if you need to.” John turned his attention to the front door, hearing Isaac walking through a little louder than usual.

“Stiles, what the hell was with leaving so fast—“

“Oh, look at that, it looks like I need to go grocery shopping! How about I do that now!” Stiles grabbed the jar on the counter that his dad usually put the grocery money in, since the boys were the ones who usually went while he was working, and made a mad dash past his dad and Isaac to the front door, barging out of the house with a loud _thunk_ of the door.

Stiles was in his jeep with the engine roaring to life by the time his dad and Isaac both stepped out onto the porch, matching worried-and-annoyed expressions on their faces as Stiles put the jeep in reverse and backed out of the driveway.

Well, that would buy him a few hours. 

He just had to figure out a way to stay out longer than necessary for Isaac and his dad to get tired of waiting on him.

 

**+++**

 

Stiles had ignored several calls from both his dad and Isaac, as well as text messages. His dad’s ranged from _What the hell is wrong with you, son_ to _Stiles, I’m really worried. Answer your phone_ to _Stiles, goddammit, answer the phone!!!_. Extra exclamation points included in his dad’s texts. Stiles would be really frightened if he didn’t want to avoid the shit out of Isaac. And maybe his dad a little bit, too, if he was being completely honest with himself.

Isaac’s text may have been a little more desperate sounding. Things like, _Stiles, I don’t understand, why are you acting so weird?_ and _Did I do something wrong??_ and _Stiles?? Please answer your phone_ and Stiles your dad’s all red in the face, please answer. You’re scaring us a little bit. Stiles tried so hard not to reply to Isaac’s messages. But if he wanted to avoid the situation, well, he couldn’t reply to Isaac and keep him from worrying.

Because Stiles _hated_ making Isaac (and his dad, too) worry. He hated upsetting him in general. Which, that’s why he wanted to avoid the situation! Because Isaac seemed so happy with Cora, and Stiles would be damned if he fucked that up by spewing his feelings all over him. He was supposed to be Isaac’s best friend, after all. So he couldn’t, like… cock block him or anything.

_Though, he’d just be getting more cock in the equation if he was with you_ his brain so unhelpfully supplied.

Traitor.

Stiles had to figure out something to do. And he was still starving. So, he decided to ignore every thought in his head and just feed his stomach. He pulled through a drive thru, getting himself a burger and an extra-large order of curly fries with a drink before he headed over to the park to sit and eat his food. 

He climbed out of the jeep, moving over to one of the picnic tables; and he’d almost finished his burger when he felt someone sit beside him. He let out a slightly irritated breath, because, seriously, there were like five million other tables that dudebro coulda sat at and they chose his table.

“What’re you doing out here alone?”

Stiles almost choked.

He knew that voice. God did he know that voice. He turned his head just a tiny bit, side eyeing Derek a little bit before he shrugged. “Maybe I was looking for some peace and quiet.”

“Oh. I guess I’ll leave you to it, then.” Derek moved to get up, but Stiles made a small noise in the back of his throat. “What? Was that a lie, Stiles?”

“Maybe,” stiles mumbled, feeling for all the world like he was a kid again under Derek’s gaze.

Derek moved around the table, sitting across from Stiles instead of right next to him, and Stiles kind of mourned the warmth that had radiated off of Derek’s side. “So, why’re you _really_ out here all alone?”

Stiles looked over at Derek for a good minute before he lifted his shoulders, “I’m enjoying my burger and curly fries, man, wassit look like?”

“Stiles,” Derek sighed out, shaking his head a little as he rested his elbows on the table, hands tucked over his crossed arms. “C’mon, tell me what’s up.”

“It’s nothing, dude, really.” Stiles shrugged again, keeping his eyes trained on his burger, which he was busy picking apart.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Yeah? Well, what do you care?” Stiles snapped, a little bit of anger spiking through him. “What’re you gonna do? Pick me up and carry me back to my dad? S’what you’re good at right?”

Derek snorted a little bit, “Y’know, that’s not a good look for you.”

“What? Being honest?”

“No, being a dick for no reason. Because I haven’t given you any reason to.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who poached on my snack time.” Stiles muttered. And if he was a little petulant sounding, well, that could be between himself and Derek.

Silence fell over the two of them for a moment before Derek cleared his throat. “I really can jet if you want to be alone, Stiles. S’just… You looked kind of down, and, well, Y’know.”

“No. I don’t.” Stiles shook his head a little bit. “And I don’t get why you always have to be the one to save me, either.”

“Save you?”

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbled, still keeping his eyes away from Derek, “And it sucks, y’know, cuz, like…. Lois Lane got to be with her Hero, and, well…..”

Derek made an understanding noise in the back of his throat. “Oh.”

“Yeah… Oh.”

Stiles fell quiet, swallowing roughly before reaching for his drink and slurping some down to wet his suddenly dry throat. He’d never outwardly admitted his feelings to Derek before. He’d suspected that Derek knew, of course, but he’d never done anything about it. Hence why Stiles had pined from a distance. Or, maybe he was just pining to take himself away from his feelings for Isaac.

But, he was ignoring those, right? 

Right.

A few awkward moments passed before Derek let out a small sigh, “Look, Stiles—“

“I get it, alright?” Stiles interrupted, shaking his head as he waved a hand a little to cut Derek off more than his words could. “I’ve always got it. I’m not… I’m not for you. And I’m not for Lydia. And I’m not for Isa—anyone. No one wants spazzy Stiles, the hyperactive annoying piece of shit. And that’s totally cool, y’know? I’ll live with it. Even if I have to live without anyone.”

“Stiles, that’s not-“

“Derek, c’mon, I know that’s how it is.” Stiles shook his head again, finally looking up at Derek with guarded eyes. “I don’t get what I want. Who I want. I just.. I don’t. I didn’t get to keep mom. Dad’s hardly around, and everyone else? Well, they’ll move on without me, too, and that’s fine. S’totally fine.”

Stiles didn’t realized he’d let his guarded expression down until Derek was moving around the table and sliding an arm around Stiles’s shoulders, pulling Stiles against his side tightly. Stiles’s body immediately tensed up, but when he went to pull away, Derek help him firmly against his side, fingers wrapped tightly around Stiles’s shoulder.

“Listen to me.” Derek spoke quietly, but firmly. “What you just said? That’s not anywhere near the truth, okay? You’ll always have your mom, Stiles, no matter if she’s in this realm or not, alright? And your dad loves you more than anything. That’s why he works to keep the streets clear of criminals so that you’re safe. So that we’re all safe. And so he can provide things for you. And as far as your friends? Well, if they leave you behind then they’re not really your friends now, are they?”

Stiles sat quietly, tense against Derek’s side, and soaked up what he was saying.

“And for _being_ with someone?” Derek shook his head, squeezing Stiles’s shoulder a little bit, “You’re going to find the person that’s perfect for you, Stiles. It’s not Lydia, and it’s not me. God, it’s not me.” Derek looking down at him before bumping his forehead to the side of Stiles’s head. “I wouldn’t make you happy, Stiles. And you don’t have feelings for me. Not like that, trust me, okay? There’s someone out there for you.”

Stiles was quiet for a moment, letting his eyes slip shut tightly as he relaxed a little at Derek’s forehead against the side of his head. He sank a little bit into Derek’s side and let out a small shaking breath. “And…. And what if the person I _really_ have feelings for…d-doesn’t feel the same way? What if he’s with someone else? Someone that’s…. That’s also close?”

“Well, have you talked to him about how you feel?” Derek asked, keeping his voice soft.

“I.. I kinda said I loved him.” Stiles mumbled, attempting to keep his emotions in check. He didn’t need to start snot-crying in front of Derek because he couldn’t keep control of himself.

“And what’d he say?”

“Uh… I may have panicked and stopped listening? I may have tried to alleviate the situation by saying it was totally platonic and stuff…cuz..he’s got a girlfriend….and… well… I don’t wanna fuck up the relationship we have already cuz, well, that’s for life already. An-and if I can’t be _with_ him, then I’m gonna be there for him…”

“Stiles….” Derek started, letting out a small breath that gusted across the side of Stiles’s neck.

“No, like, it’s okay, though, y’know? Cuz, being friends is totally enough.” Stiles shrugged a little bit, as best as he could with Derek’s arm around him so tightly. “S’okay.”

“It’s not okay, Stiles.” Derek shook his head, his forehead rubbing against the side of Stiles’s head. “Look, I know that you don’t want to admit who it is, or whatever, but, I know, Stiles.”

“Know what? How shitty this is?”

“Yes, and who you’re talking about.” 

“S’uh… S’not who you’re thinking.” Stiles cleared his throat a little bit.

“Isaac loves you, Stiles. I know that you think that he’s dating and in love with Cora—“

“No. Okay. No. This… It’s not Isaac!” Stiles pushed himself up, almost tripping over the bench in his haste to get away from Derek. 

He headed towards his jeep, saying that he had to go. He’d almost gotten to the jeep when Derek’s voice reaching him, making Stiles stop in his tracks.

“You can’t run from this forever, Stiles. You’re gonna make yourself sick over this shit.”

“I-I gotta go!” Stiles sent Derek a halfhearted wave before he wrenched the door to the jeep open and climbed in, starting it up and driving away as quickly as he could.

 

**+++**

 

Stiles had somehow managed to stay out as late as he possibly could, actually buying groceries at around eleven at night before heading home. He’d just driven around the town, stopped a few places, and generally sulked in lonesome silence until it was late enough that he could avoid both his dad and Isaac when he got home from the store.

Stiles carried the groceries into the house, being as quiet as he could with his arms slap full of grocery bags. He stopped when he got inside of the door, spotting Isaac passed out on the couch, a book lying across his chest.

It made Stiles’s chest constrict a bit.

Fuck.

Moving into the kitchen, Stiles set the groceries down as quietly as he could. He glanced around, wishing there was a door between the kitchen and the living room so that he wouldn’t wake Isaac up putting the groceries away. But, there wasn’t, so Stiles had to make do with what he had. He just had to be extra careful to not make any noise while he put the groceries away.

Somehow he managed it, making as little noise as possible, but still, as he moved to head up the stairs, he heard a tiny, sleep-slurred, “’tiles,” come from the couch. Stiles once again stopped in his tracks. He kept his back to the couch for a moment before he turned around and walked over when Isaac sleepily called his name again.

Kneeling down beside the couch, Stiles took in Isaac’s face. It was a little damp with sweat, like it usually was when Isaac had one of his nightmares. Stiles’s brows furrowed. It’d been a while since Isaac had bad dreams; or, well, since Isaac had crawled into bed with Stiles because of them. He sighed a little, reaching out to brush his fingers through the curls at Isaac’s forehead.

“What, Zac?” Stiles whispered, massaging Isaac’s scalp a little bit.

“Bad’reams.” Isaac mumbled, his drowsy eyes slipping shut when he felt Stiles massaging his scalp. “S’worried abou’you.” He added, slurring in his sleepy state.

“Sorry, man,” Stiles mentally kicked himself. He’d never thought that the way he was acting would spark Isaac having nightmares again. He wanted to beat the shit out of himself for that. “I didn’t mean to worry you, Zac. I just.. Have some things on my mind, s’all.”

“Y’know y’can talk’t’me abou’an’thing, right?” Isaac visibly struggled to open his sleepy eyes to look at Stiles with dark blue eyes, clouded with worry.

Stiles’s fingers stilled against Isaac’s scalp, his eyes starting to sting a little bit as his stomach lurched. “N-not this time, buddy.” Stiles mumbled, moving to stand up and head to his room.

“’Tiles?” Isaac’s meek, sleepy voice reached him at the stairs again.

Stiles stopped to turn back to look at him. He was sitting up on the couch now, looking at Stiles with furrowed eyebrows and worried, slightly scared eyes. “Hmm?”

“Can I….” Isaac trailed off, looking down at the couch as he swallowed dryly. He looked back up at Stiles, the question written all over his face.

Stiles knew that they done it a million times, slept in the same bed to chase each other’s nightmares away. This time, though, Stiles knew it was probably hurt the most of any of them, aside from the nights right after mom died.

He watched Isaac for a moment before he let out a little shaking breath, nodding, “yeah, Zac… Yeah.”

He waited for Isaac to sleepily get up from the couch and a little blearily walk over to him. Isaac wrapped an arm around his shoulders, stumbling on the stairs a little bit until Stiles wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. The two ascended the stairs slowly and made their way into Stiles’s room, where Stiles carefully deposited Isaac on his bed, tucking him under the covers before he changed into his pajamas and joined him.

He left a little bit of room between them, but Isaac moved over to him, wrapping around him like a drowsy little octopus, pillowing his head on Stiles’s shoulder and breathing a sigh of relief at being close to him. Stiles’s chest constricted, his eyes stinging horribly even as he closed his eyes tight and clenched his jaw.

“S’iles,” Isaac’s voice was a little whiney as he tightened his arm around Stiles.

Stiles couldn’t help the little broken noise that pushed out of his throat. He sucked in a breath quickly, rolling until his back was to Isaac and his face was buried in his pillows. He didn’t know if he could do this. _god_ being close to Isaac like this was going to kill him. He felt the pillow dampening under his face as indication that squeezing his eyes shut wasn’t doing the trick to keep the tears away. He just pushed his face further into the pillow.

“S’iles, y’tremblin’.” Isaac pressed up against his back, tightening his arm around Stiles. Their bodies fit together almost perfectly, only making Stiles let out another broken sound into his pillow. “S’iles, wassit?”

“S’n-n-nothing,” Stiles said into his pillow, not liking the way his voice trembled at all. He didn’t want to be so close to Isaac. He didn’t want to break down like this in front of Isaac. _Because_ of Isaac. He didn’t want to put that on him.

“Stiles,” Isaac sounded a little more lucid now, his hand splaying over the center of Stiles’s chest where his heart was racing, his breaths shuddering. “Stiles, what is it?”

“I… I can’t,” Stiles shook his head, letting out a little sob into his pillow as he curled into himself a little more, wishing that Isaac would just go back to sleep. “Just.. Just go back to sleep.”

“Stiles, I can’t just-“

“Please, Zac… _please,_ just go back to sleep.” Stiles begged him weakly, clutching at his pillow.

Isaac was quiet for a moment, but Stiles knew he was looking at him because he could feel his breath along his jaw lightly. After a few moments, Isaac mumbled a small ‘okay’ and pressed his face to the back of Stiles’s neck, holding him tighter and curling around him like he could protect him from whatever he was feeling.

And if that didn’t make Stiles sob harder into his pillow, he didn’t know what would. Stiles hadn’t cried since the months after his mom died. Since the panic attacks subsided and he was able to cope a little bit better than panic attacks on the regular. Since the nightmares of seeing her life slipping away had died down, of seeing his dad say he was the reason she was dead stopped recurring in his dreams.

Stiles hadn’t cried himself to sleep in years.

But that night… That night he did. With Isaac, the reason for his tears, wrapped around him.


	8. To Love Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, Dudes, I am soooo incredibly sorry that it's taking so damn long to get the rest of this fic up and running! Turns out that actually making an effort in school is a little difficult xD, but, I've written some more on this, and I think what I'm gonna do is write it until it is finished, and then post it all for you guys so that you wont have to wait any longer!!

When Isaac woke up, Stiles wasn’t in his bed anymore. The space where Stiles had been lying had gone cold already, so Isaac gathered that Stiles had been out of bed for a while. It worried Isaac a little more than it usually would have, waking up at an early hour and Stiles not being in bed, but he was pretty sure that he had damn good reason to be worried. 

Stiles hadn’t cried, like _cried_ , since the months after his mom died, and Isaac knew that very well, because he’d been there for all of it. He didn’t entirely could panic attacks as crying because, well, that was really out of Stiles’s control, and Isaac knew he could control himself when crying was concerned. But the night before? Stiles had sobbed into his pillow as quietly as he could while Isaac attempted to do as he asked, trying to go back to sleep because Stiles clearly hadn’t wanted him to witness his emotional breakdown.

So, yes, Isaac was definitely worried about what had transpired there. It’d been so long since he’d seen Stiles lose it, essentially, that he really didn’t have any clue what so ever to do to make things better for Stiles. He’d been acting weird, anyway, of course, and he clearly didn’t want to talk about it or else Isaac would’ve been one of the people Stiles came to.

_Unless it’s about you,_ his mind supplied him as he pushed himself up off of the mattress and ran his hands through his hair with a yawn.

But, no, if Stiles was upset with him, he’d tell him, right? Because, they told each other everything.

Well… _almost_ everything.

Isaac sighed and glanced around the bedroom, looking for any clues as to where Stiles had gone on a Saturday morning, but he couldn’t see anything out of place—aside from the usual things out of place like clothes scattered, papers along the desk and the floor where they’d fallen out of the printer, video games misplaced from the shelf, movies sitting on the night stand instead of their shelf. The usual. He would have snooped a little more, but he found that to definitely be wrong and an invasion of Stiles’s privacy. He shouldn’t do that.

Nope.

Which is why he ended up pushing himself off of Stiles’s bed and headed for the bedroom door, leaving the room so that he wouldn’t be tempted to search around for any indication as to why Stiles had been acting so freaking weird. And the sobbing, snot crying. That, too, though, Isaac was a little selfishly glad that he’d been there to wrap Stiles up in his arms during it; otherwise, he was sure Stiles would have suffered in almost-silence.

Even though he’d still refused to tell Isaac what had been wrong.

Isaac sighed and moved into his own room, searching around for clothes for after a shower. He was emptying his pockets when he noticed his phone blinking at him, so he unlocked it and looked at the messages.

**From Dad** 11:03 pm

_Let me know when Stiles gets home, I’m gonna have to give him a talking to. Have a good day, Zac._

Shit. Isaac glanced at the clock and sighed again. He’d still be at work, so Isaac dialed John’s number, waiting for him to answer. He didn’t have to wait very long, though, because soon enough John was answering the phone with a “Shouldn’t you be sleeping in on a Saturday?”

Isaac smiled softly and hummed out a small “Mhm” because he shrugged (Even though John couldn’t see it). “I just got your message from last night. I fell asleep on the couch waiting up for Stiles after you left for work.”

“What time did he get in?” John asked, his previously slightly playful tone disappearing at the mention of Stiles.

“I woke up around midnight, I think? He was heading to his room. I, uh….” Isaac paused for a second before he cleared his throat and let out a breath, “I’m kind of worried. Well, no, not kind of. I’m worried about him.”

“What’s going on?” John asked, concern coloring his tone.

“He just… I was having nightmares, and I asked if I could sleep with him, y’know, like we’ve always done, and he said yeah and all, but once we were lying down, he was trembling and then there were like… _real_ tears, and I didn’t know what to do. He hasn’t really _really_ cried since Mom and all, and it’s just… I’m _really_ worried. He wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, just told me to go back to sleep, but he was like, literally sobbing into his pillow as softly as he could—“

“Zac, Zac! Take a breath.” John told him, making Isaac suck in a deep breath and let it out with a tiny little groan-like-whine mixed in. Once he’d done that, John continued. “Stiles mentioned yesterday that he might have been having a little bit of relationship problems? And the night before he’d been in his room, upset about things. I don’t think he got any of his homework done… At least that’s what I got from him saying he had things to do during lunch, which is why he didn’t eat.”

“Relationship problems?” Isaac mumbled quietly, moving to sink down onto his bed.

“Do you know what happened Thursday night?” John asked, his voice gentle.

“We….. We were making Erica birthday brownies with kit-kats in them…”

“Zac, I really don’t think making brownies is what upset him,” John told him gently. “You weren’t home when I got home, either.” He pointed out softly.

“I, uh…. We were fixing up the brownies and Unchained Melody came on, and, he was starting to space out, y’know? So I… I did what Mom used to do, and I pulled him to me and danced with him. And, like…. It made him feel better, I guess..I mean, the trembling stopped, but..”

“But what?”

“He, uh.. He said he loved me?” Isaac mumbled, a little bit miserably.

“He did?” John’s voice was still gentle.

“And I… Dad, I froze.” Isaac whispered against the phone. He’d told John about his feelings, of course, but he’d also been told to get a girlfriend and stuff. “And… and then he pulled away and, like…shut down and said that he’d told me a million times…And…I panicked and said I had to go meet Cora.”

John let out a sigh on the other end of the phone. Isaac could practically see him rubbing a hand over his forehead in exasperation. It didn’t really make him feel better at all.

“And then yesterday, as soon as Cora and I walked into the cafeteria, he bolted and Scott went after him, but wouldn’t tell any of us what happened when we asked him later. And then Stiles bolted right after school, and I had to get a ride from Cora, and then when I came him… Well.. you know the rest of the story.” Isaac let out a breath, pushing his fingers through his hair roughly.

“I don’t know what to do,” he added in a small voice. “You…. You know how I feel about him, and I can’t… I hate seeing him like this, and I want so much to make it better, but I think that I’m just making it worse….”

“I’ll talk to him, Zac,” John promised, “You just… Have a good time today and try not to worry too much, okay?”

“I dunno if I can do that,” Isaac mumbled, “I’m really worried.”

“I know, son, and I’ll talk to Stiles, alright? But, look, I’ve got some paper work to finish before heading home. If you’re still there when I get home, I’ll see you then, okay?”

“Mkay,” Isaac mumbled.

“Bye, Zac.”

“Bye.”

 

**+++**

 

Once Isaac had gotten his shower and ate some breakfast, he’d milled around the house a little bit, cleaning up and doing all of their laundry. It had been really early when he’d woken up, and he didn’t want to bother Cora or Erica any before noon at least. Erica would have had his dick for waking her up before noon on a Saturday, even though he, Erica, and Cora were supposed to be hanging out that day. He was a little disappointed when he got a text from Erica saying that she would have to post-pone being third wheel because something had come up. Something that he’d later find out was Stiles.

When it was an acceptable hour, Isaac gathered up some things and headed over to Cora’s house to get a start on their day. He wasn’t entirely up for being the ‘it’ couple for the day, but he was up for spending time with his best friend. Well, one of his best friends. He needed Cora. She was the only person who knew that their relationship was a scam, anyway, and the second person to know that he was in love with Stiles. He just needed a distraction.

Cora was sitting in the kitchen when Mrs. Hale let him into the house, nursing some coffee and a cinnamon roll that Mrs. Hale had apparently just taken out of the oven. It kind of made Isaac’s mouth water, even though he’d already eaten and also wasn’t really hungry because he’d started thinking about Stiles again, worrying more because Stiles hadn’t even left a note before he left the house. So, he manfully ignored the delicious scent of the cinnamon rolls and coffee wafting through the house and moved to the kitchen to plop down into the chair next to Cora with a muted groan-whine as he barely refrained from slamming his head against the table top.

“Uh…Morning?” Cora mumbled through a full mouth of delicious cinnamon and glaze goodness. “S’there a reason you’re whining on my kitchen table so early in the day, Zac?”

Isaac just lifted his head, frowning at Cora in a way that could rival Derek. “Yes, there is, and I don’t know what to fucking do about it.”

“Isaac, language.” Mrs. Hale intoned with slight amusement as she moved to set a cup of perfectly made coffee in front of Isaac. “There, sweetie, it looks like you could use it.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Hale.” Isaac smiled gratefully at the older woman before he sipped the coffee, letting out a groan of appreciation. “God, this is so much better than the stuff we have. I don’t know how you do it, but ours always turns out like sludge or something compared to this.”

Mrs. Hale just laughed softly, patting her hand over Isaac’s curls before she said, “I’ll leave you two to talk. Holler if you need anything.”

“Thanks, mom.” Cora smiled at her mother before she walked out, turning to Isaac once the coast was clear. “Alright, tell me what happened.”

“Well, you know how Stiles was acting really weird yesterday?” Isaac waited for Cora to nod before he continued, “well, he took off before I could catch a ride and all, y’know, and when I got home, he booked it out of the house saying some shit about buying groceries.”

The boys always bought groceries together, for one, and on top of that Stiles hadn’t even let him finish his inquiry before he’d high tailed it out of the house.

“Dad had this look on his face, too, like, he was really worried about him, and Stiles just took off. And I tried to wait up for him, but he didn’t get home till real late. I fell asleep on the couch waiting up after dad left.”

“He just took off without a word?” Cora asked, his eyebrows arching up.

“Yeah. And I wasn’t having very good dreams, y’know, and I woke up when he was heading upstairs. And, well, we chase each other’s nightmares away… we always have.. so.. I asked if I could sleep with him. And so, when we got into bed, he was shaking really bad and when I asked what was wrong, he just rolled away and told me to go back to sleep, but… Cor.. He was really upset. I haven’t seen Stiles lose it like that since the months after mom died and the panic attacks and all.”

“And he wouldn’t tell you what had him so upset?” she asked, now with her eyebrows in a knot.

“Nuh uh. Just told me to go back to sleep. And I tried, but I ended up lying there listening to him pretty much sob as quietly as he could into his pillow. It was…. It was ripping me in two, Cor… And when I woke up this morning, he was gone. And.. I’m talking like….really early. I don’t think he even went to sleep? I dunno…”

“Isaac.. Maybe we should call this whole _dating_ thing off….It seems to be hurting the two of you more than it is really worth, y’know?”

“But… Dad seems so much happier now that I’ve got a ‘girlfriend’.” Isaac actually pulled out the air quotes. “And, like.. I dunno… I still don’t think he’s interested in me like that, y’know?”

“You’re all idiots.” Derek’s voice startled Isaac in to whipping around in his chair, seeing Derek walk into the kitchen with sleep rumbled clothes and hair sticking out all over the place. He even had indentions from his pillow across his face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Isaac asked, and if his tone was a little more defensive than it should have been, well.

“It means just that. You’re all idiots.” Derek replied, moving to pour himself some coffee. “You two for faking your relationship to get at some kid that’s probably more fucked in the head than anyone I know. You and Stiles, Isaac, for actually being so blind that you can’t even see that you’re both ridiculously in love with each other. It’s kind of perfect, really. Two idiots don’t make a gifted person, but I guess you’ll fit together nicely.”

“What the hell, Der?” Cora stared at her brother with slow bubbling rage, which Isaac could only agree with.

“What the hell do you know of it, anyway?” Isaac asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Derek just smirked and moved to sit at the table with them, nursing his coffee slowly. “what I know is that Stiles has the notion that the guy he’s in love with—Not me, by the way—is in a happy relationship with his girlfriend—who is not even his real girlfriend—and he has no idea that _you_ , Isaac, are doing this dating thing with my sister just to appease the Sheriff because Stiles is too blind to see that you two are perfect for each other.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Cora asked, incredulous.

“I saw him yesterday.” Derek shrugged a little, lifting a hand to rub sleepily at his eyes. “God, it’s too early for this shit—Look. Stiles loves you, okay? And you love him. I don’t know who you love,” Derek directed at Cora, “And I’ve got Jen and Lydia’s got Jackson, and the only two people that don’t realize that you’re in love is _you two_. And this whole faking a relationship thing? S’only going to hurt you two in the end. So you might as well get your head out of your ass and tell that boy that you love him.”

Derek paused a moment before softening his voice, “because he’s convinced that he’s not good enough or something.”

“I’m the one who’s not good enough, dude.”

Derek lifted his eyebrows a little, “you know what mom used to tell Laura and Cora about that?”

Isaac shook his head, leaning forward a little bit. 

“The only person who deserves to be with you is the one who says they don’t.” Cora answered, a small smile on her face. “Derek’s right, Zac… We can’t keep doing this. You two have enough problems as it is, and we’re just adding on to the emotional turmoil.”

Derek snorted a little bit. “Sounds about as accurate as it’s going to get. Aside from just admitting that there’s a metric fuckton of bullshittery that’s going on.”

Isaac snorted into a small laugh. He could see why Stiles hero-worshipped Derek. And Isaac could see them being friends if Isaac didn’t hold a grudge for Stiles ‘loving’ him.

“So what are we going to do?”

“Well,” Cora shrugged, “we’re going to stage an amicable break up scene. Then you’re going to confess your love to your future husband.”

 

**+++**

 

Isaac and Cora did indeed stage an amicable break up, but that didn’t entirely have the effect that the two of them had initially wanted. In fact, Stiles hadn’t done anything other than avoid the shit out of both of them even more. Isaac just didn’t _understand_. He didn’t understand what he’d done wrong, why Stiles avoided him like the goddamn plague.

Stiles had done everything in his power to stay away from Isaac and Cora, both, but more so Isaac. He’d literally even get up and leave the room if he was sitting comfortably if Isaac walked into the room. It stung more than Isaac could explain. It went on for weeks like that, and Isaac was almost at his breaking point.

He’d mentioned so much to Cora, and Isaac couldn’t entirely say that he was surprised when at school one morning, he heard a commotion and moved to see that Cora had slammed Stiles against the set of lockers that Stiles’s locker was a part of, her fingers gripping the collar of his shirt as she yelled in his face. Isaac could hear them clearly, even with people talking and being positioned a little ways down the hallway.

“What the fuck is your problem, Stilinski!?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles told her, lifting his shoulders as he stared at her with a blank, slightly dead look in his eyes.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Cora pulled him off of the lockers and then slammed him back against them once more. “You’re avoiding him and breaking his heart!”

“It doesn’t matter—“

“It doesn’t matter!?” Cora basically growled out. “He’s in love with you, you fuckwit! He’s done all of this because he believed that _you_ didn’t want him! He never wanted _me_ , Stiles! God, you’re so fucking stupid. Of course it matters! _You_ matter to him, and you’re breaking his heart!

“If I mattered, he wouldn’t have been dating _you_! But I guess that’s the only way you can get a date, right? If it’s fake?” Stiles spat at her, only to drop silent when Cora reared back and slammed her fist into his face, his head knocking back against the lockers from the impact.

Several people let out various noises of shock, Isaac being one of the loudest as he pushed through the people and grabbed Cora, yanking her off of Stiles and pulling her away.

“What the hell are you doing?” Isaac asked, panicked when he glanced at Stiles and saw his head down, chin glinting with a small stream of blood. “What did you do, Cora?” 

“I said I would talk to him.” She told him, shrugging as she tried to mask the trembles of rage coursing through her.

Isaac let her go, shaking his head as he turned and stepped closer to Stiles, a hand postured out to land on Stiles’s shoulder. “Stiles? Stiles, are you okay?”

“M’fine.” Stiles mumbled, keeping his head ducked down even as all of his visible skin was flushing bright. “Jus’leave me alone.” 

“Stiles, I-“

“Just leave me alone, Isaac!” When Stiles looked up at him, his eyes were burning with humiliation and hurt, but he just shook his head as he whispered a small, “please, just leave me alone” before he pushed past Isaac and darted down the hallway towards the double doors at the end of the corridor.

Isaac stared after him, his heart pounding up in his throat, until Stiles was out of the building. Only then did he whirl around and look at Cora, his jaw clenched so tight that he could feel the ache in his teeth. 

“Cora! What the hell!” Isaac gritted out, only getting even angrier when Cora just lifted her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug, her eyes boring into Isaac.

“It had to be done. I’m getting sick and tired of him hurting you, Zac. I had to do something.”

“You just punched him in the face in front of at least a hundred people, Cora!” Isaac yelled at her, stepping forward with the urge to shake her, but he forced his hands to remain by his sides, even if they were balled up. “What the fuck were you _thinking_?! That you’d make him feel even worse for hurting me? Humiliate him into submission? What? Please, explain to me how you could be that type of cruel!”

“I didn’t do it to be cruel!” She shouted at him, stepping towards him; but Isaac just stepped back, shaking his head.

“Well, you were! Now… Now I don’t even know how to _fix_ this mess that you just created! He barely even looked at me, Cora. You… You might have just ruined everything!” Isaac shook his head, turning and walking off in the direction that Stiles went. Maybe he’d be able to find him and make things better.

And he knew he was acting a little bit dramatic, but he really couldn’t help it. Cora had literally punched Stiles in the fucking face. How was Isaac supposed to deal with that? How was he supposed to make Stiles see that he hadn’t meant for that to happen, that he hadn’t meant for Stiles to be completely humiliated in front of a large crowd of high school students by being shoved around and punched in the face by a girl. Even if that girl is an abrasive as shit Hale.

 

**+++**

 

Isaac looked around for Stiles for hours, feeling more and more down and out of his depths as he finally gave up and headed towards the house. He could have cried in relief when he noticed the jeep sitting in the driveway when he got home, just glad to know that Stiles was okay and safe. Even though he’d been walking around all day, skipping class in order to find him. Even though he’d had to ask Scott for a ride home because he sure as fuck wasn’t going to ask Cora.

Once he’d said goodbye to Scott, he’d headed into the house, dropping his things off by the door and heading towards the kitchen for a bottle of water. He downed nearly half of it as he listened to the house, wondering where Stiles was. He capped his water bottle and headed for the stairs, ascending them as quickly as he could. He glanced around on the second floor, moving towards Stiles’s bedroom door when he heard the television through the closed door.

Stiles must had come home and just curled up in his room; and sine the Sheriff hadn’t allowed them locks on their bedroom door, Isaac just knocked tentatively before he wrapped his fingers around the doorknob, twisting as he pushed the door open and stepped slowly into Stiles’s bedroom.

The lights were off, the television the only light seeing as Stiles had drawn the curtains over his window, blocking out the sun. Isaac could see a large body sized lump under the blankets on Stiles’s bed, but he couldn’t see Stiles clearly. He noticed that Stiles had Game of Thrones playing, one of his favorite scenes where Viserys finally gets his golden crown. It was gruesome, but Isaac loved that scene; mainly because he loved Daenerys. 

Isaac was brought back to what he was doing in Stiles’s room when Stiles paused the dvd and waited for Isaac to either say something or get out, but Isaac just cleared his throat and stood a little bit awkwardly in the middle of the room, between the bed and door. He wanted nothing more than to go over to Stiles, curl up on the bed and watch Game of Thrones with him, but he knew that that probably wasn’t going to happen. 

Not unless he spilled some really good explanations out onto the floor.

“What do you want, Isaac?” Stiles asked, his voice sounding utterly raw and just plain tired.

“I… I wanted to see if you were o.. okay.” Isaac told him, inching closer a little bit.

Stiles flinched a bit, moving to sit up a little bit; and from the light in the hallway, Isaac could see the slit across Stiles’s bottom lip from where Cora had hit him.

“What do you think?” Stiles mumbled, picking at his comforter.

“I think that Cora’s an idiot, and I never ever wanted that to happen.” Isaac replied, moving until he could inch himself onto the edge of Stiles’s bed, moving like he was facing a feral animal.

“And what exactly did you want to happen, Isaac?” Stiles asked, his eyes trained on the comforter, not moving at all towards Isaac; and it wasn’t like Isaac could really blame him.

“I wanted _you_ ,” Isaac replied, desperation dripping into his voice as he leaned forward a little bit.

Stiles startled a little bit, lifting his head to peak at Isaac through his lashes. “Wh.. What?”

“I wanted you, Stiles.” Isaac repeated, shifting a little bit closer. “I… I wanted.. I’ve wanted so long, and.. You never showed any.. You were always mooning over Lydia or Derek or whatever, and I just didn’t think… And then Dad realized and said I should just, y’know, date around, but I didn’t want to. I never wanted to date anyone but you, but… Well, he was worried, and you never showed interest, and I just… Cora said she’d date me without the, y’know, more physical parts of it, and I… I didn’t mean for all of this to happen, and I didn’t think you were acting so weird over _me_ , and God, Stiles, it was terrible seeing you break down over this and not know what the hell was going on, that I couldn’t _help_ you. I-“ Isaac broke off, breathing a little hard because he’d somehow managed to get all of that out on about two short breaths.

“I just.. I wanted- I do want _you_.” He concluded, unable to stop himself from reaching out and wrapped his fingers gently around Stiles’s hand. “I… I am so sorry, Stiles, I… I never meant for any of this to happen…”

Stiles was watching Isaac out right now, his mouth hanging open just slightly. He listened as Isaac went on his little spiel, watching him with guarded awe, it seemed.

“I’m sorry,” Isaac repeated, moving even closer and reaching out to gently brush his thumb over Stiles’s bottom lip, frowning as noticed the bruising and swelling even in the dark, “I’m so, so, sorry. I… I love you.”

Stiles’s head jerked a little bit, but whether it was Isaac brushing his thumb over his lip or the words that Isaac had just said that caused it were lost on Isaac. Either way, he had to say it again. 

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” Isaac leaned forward again, “you hear me? I’m in love with you.”

“R-…Really?” Stiles asked, his voice just barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, really,” Isaac nodded, a small smile curving his lips. His fingers squeezed Stiles hand lightly.

Stiles stared at him for a moment before he cleared his throat, dropping his eyes to their hands for a moment before lifting them to look at Isaac again. “I… uh… I love you, too—I mean, I’ve said it before, and I slipped… in the kitchen that night with the song and the dancing… it just came out and I panicked, and then I thought you’d slept with Cora that night, and I didn’t—“

Isaac leaned forward, pressing their lips together lightly; and the only reason he didn’t keep his lips against Stiles’s was because Stiles let out a soft hiss of pain, making Isaac pull away from him. He belatedly remembered Stiles’s lip and muttered a small apology as he leaned forward again, brushing his lips over the side of Stiles’s mouth that wasn’t injured, then his cheek, then the bridge of his nose, then his forehead. 

Isaac pressed his forehead to Stiles’s lightly, brushing his thumb over Stiles’s knuckles, letting the silence wash over them for countless moments before Stiles cleared his throat a little, letting out a slightly shaking breath before he broke the silence with his voice.

“You… You wanna stay and watch this with me?” Stiles asked, his voice still small.

Isaac smiled at him, nodding as he bumped their noses together. “I’m gonna go make us a snack and get you an ice pack for your lip first, though, okay?” When Stiles nodded, Isaac grinned, “you want popcorn and M&Ms?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles laughed out, the sound coming out more as a giggle than anything else, a little breathless. “Sounds perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back,” Isaac grinned, dipping his head to brush his lips against Stiles’s before he got up and headed for the door again.

Once he’d made the popcorn and searched the kitchen for the M&Ms Stiles had to hide from his dad, Isaac carried the bowl of popcorn, the bag of M&Ms, two bottles of water, and an ice pack up stairs. He couldn’t wipe the small smile off of his lips as he did all of this, itching to get back beside Stiles and curl up next to him.

He couldn’t believe that this was happening, really happening. He’d dreamed about hearing Stiles say those three words to him, to really mean them in the way that he’d wanted; and now he had. Isaac could feel his heart pounding in his chest loudly as he made his way back into the room, kicking off his shoes at the side of Stiles’s bed and crawling onto the bed, sliding under the blankets as he handed the ice pack to Stiles.

“Put that against your lip,” he mumbled, settling in with the popcorn and bottles of water in his lap, getting comfortable and resting back against the headboard.

“Mkay,” Stiles grinned, pressing the play button and settling in, alternating between grabbing popcorn and chocolate to shove into his mouth and pressing the ice pack against his lip gently.

The two sat, watching the show intently until the popcorn was gone, the M&M bag half empty. Their water bottles sat on the bedside table as they shifted around, getting more comfortable wrapped around each other, the ice pack long gone warm and set aside. 

 

Isaac couldn’t stop himself from pressing soft kisses here and there while Stiles was lost in the show. He actually thought that Stiles hadn’t even realized he was doing it until Stiles turned, disregarding his busted lip in favor of kissing Isaac so thoroughly that he ended up breathless as they pressed together.

“Jesus, Stiles,” Isaac breathed out, chuckling softly as he slid his hand up the length of Stiles’s side.

“M’not even sorry.” Stiles laughed softly against Isaac’s lips, sliding his fingers into Isaac’s hair. “I’ve just been dying to do that for a really long time. And now I get to do it whenever I want.” He paused for a moment, leaning back slightly to look at Isaac, “Right?”

Isaac couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face as he nodded immediately, “yes, yeah, you can definitely do that whenever you want, Stiles. Absolutely whenever you want.”

“Good. Because I want.” Stiles grinned Just as widely, leaning forward to push into a kiss that bordered on filthy, making Isaac’s insides turn to mush as he just melted against Stiles, pulling his body closer and pressing the two of them together completely.


	9. Epilogue:  And After All This Time, I'm Still Into You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end my friends! The epilogue for the boys!! Including ' years later' little scenes! ^_^ I hope you enjoyed this, and I'm so so so thankful for all of you that have stuck with me with this! Who have cried and laughed and commented, all of that. Thank you so much!!

**One Year Later**

 

After being officially together for a year, things hadn’t entirely changed much- aside from being able to kiss, touch, and hold each other whenever they wanted, really. There was also the brilliant thing of saying that they loved each other. The two of them said those words as much as they could. And seeing how they went through all the drama before finally getting together, they never really went without saying it.

Now, that’s not to say that the two of them didn’t have their arguments. Of course they did. Isaac would get exceptionally upset when Stiles would take too much Adderall and be up for days, forget to eat, and be really hard to calm down. Stiles would get moods when he forgot to take his pill that would spark his mouth running off and cause arguments. But, really, the two of them never went to bed angry.

On a day when they’d had a stupid argument about prom, in which Stiles said that he didn’t really care about going, and Isaac said that it was a monumental high school memory that they shouldn’t miss, the two argued for most of the day. Even the Sheriff was put off by it, choosing to leave the boys to it as he left and went out to roam around the town to let them sort it all out.

That night, when Isaac was in the bathroom brushing his teeth before bed, steam still clinging to the mirror from his shower, he felt Stiles’s eyes on him from the door way. He didn’t acknowledge him, though, because he was still a bit pissy about Stiles not wanting to go to prom. Not even with him.

“Zac,” Stiles started after standing in the doorway for at least a couple minutes while Isaac switched the flossing his teeth. “C’mon, don’t be like this. It’s not all that important, y’know? S’just a silly dance.”

“It’s not just a silly dance, Stiles. It’s prom.” Isaac pointed out, shaking his head as he lifted his hands to continue flossing.

“It’s a dance! I don’t see the big deal! There’ll be bad music, uncomfortable clothing, stupid pictures, maybe spiked punch-“

Isaac dropped his hands, turning to look at him. “It’s something that people go through high school thinking about, Stiles. I don’t get why you don’t want to go. It’s a silly dance, yes, but it’s a staple high school memory thing, and everyone should go to their prom.”

“But…I _don’t._ ” Stiles mumbled, staring at Isaac like he wanted desperately to shove his feelings down his throat and make him understand. “It’s an excuse to show people how much money you spent and who you got to go with you—and I don’t need to do that, okay? I show you off every day! And I dance with you more often than a stupid little dance could even begin to show. I don’t have to go to some dance to prove anything.”

“What if I want to go? Show you off in a tux and go out to dinner with our friends and take the stupid pictures and drink the shitty spiked punch and dance to crappy music?” 

“Is it really that important that we go?” Stiles asked, the wind falling from his sails, so to speak.

“Yes,” Isaac nodded, watching Stiles seriously with the floss still wrapped around his fingers. “I want that memory with you. With our friends, and seeing Dad all stupidly happy taking pictures with Melissa, and all of that.”

Silence fell between them for a moment before Stiles let out a breath and moved into the bathroom. When Isaac turned to face him, Stiles backed him up against the sink’s counter and wrapped his arms loosely around Isaac’s waist. “Alright.”

“What?”

“I said alright. We’ll go.” Stiles told him, a small smile curving his lips as he leaned in and bumped his forehead against Isaac’s. “We’ll go the whole nine yards. Uncomfortable tuxes, stupid flower things, the pictures, the limo, the dinner with our friends, the crappy music and shitty punch. All of it, okay? I just… I want you to be happy, alright? And if going to some stupid dance will make you happy, I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Isaac asked, leaning his head back a bit to look at Stiles.

“I don’t want to fight with you, and I want you to be happy. So, yes. We’ll go to prom.” Stiles nodded, looking up at Isaac with a little chuckle, “and if we get there and you think it’s totally lame, then we’ll ditch and go sit out in the preserve and make our own dance…or, y’know, _memories_.”

Isaac felt like his grin was going to crack his face open, but he didn’t entirely care. He untangled his fingers from the floss and wrapped his arms around Stiles’s neck, drawing him in closer with a hand on the back of Stiles’s head until their lips were pressed together.

“I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah, babe, I know,” Stiles nodded with a grin, pressing a series of quick kisses to Isaac’s lips as he tightened his arms around Isaac’s waist. “I love you, too.”

 

**Two Years Later**

The first time that they’d done this, it had been a complete disaster. Even with all of the _research_ that Stiles had put into it, it had gone completely wrong and both of them had been more embarrassed than anything before they eventually had to give up. It had been so awkward that the two of them had just laughed it off until they had tears in their eyes, deciding that it would be best to just try and learn some more before attempting anything again.

But since then? The two of them had figured out what got the other riled up, pleased them more than other things. They’d learned each other’s bodies and what they like and how they like to do things. They’d learned that Stiles’s oral fixation made him excellent at giving blow jobs, and that both of their fingers would work some devilish magic. They’d learned that switching things up made things more interesting, and they the both enjoyed giving and receiving.

Graduation had come and gone, and the two of them had gone to a party with their friends. Lydia Martin was hosting a pool party for their entire graduating class, and Stiles had pulled Isaac away from their friends and into one of the rooms in the large house. He’d pushed Isaac up against the door and kissed him until all the blood in his body tried to relocate to his dick, straining against his swim trunks. And then he had dropped to his knees on the hard wood floor and tugged Isaac’s trunks down until they pooled at his ankles, taking Isaac apart with his mouth and spit slicked fingers.

Isaac had barely been able to keep his knees from buckling when Stiles tried to suck his brain out through his cock; all he could do was hold on and card his fingers into Stiles’s hair, guiding his boyfriend’s head up and down his cock at the speed that he wanted. And Stiles let him, he let him essentially skull fuck him in an empty room at Lydia Martin’s house while their entire graduating class was partying just feet away from them.

It had been probably one of the hottest things that either of them had ever done.

 

**Six Years Later**

College had been an experience. The two of them had gotten into schools in the same area, deciding that after living in their respective dorms for a year that they wanted to get an apartment together in between the two schools. They’d been living together for so long, that it wasn’t a hardship to live together, then, even without the Sheriff there to mediate and remind them of things.

It turned out that Isaac was excellent at money management, and Stiles was fine with cleaning the apartment and doing the chores- even though the two of them had times when they would split them to get things done quicker; or times when one of them was loaded with course work and the other did the chores or shopping.

They made a point to always make time for each other, even though sometimes they had to separate themselves so that they could get their school work done. Four years of college went by like that, and sooner than they thought, the two had degrees under their belts and were celebrating their bachelor’s degrees with the visiting Scott and Allison, John and Melissa, and even Cora had come down for the ceremony.

They were all out to dinner at a swanky little restaurant a couple blocks from their apartment, enjoying themselves as they ate, drank, and laughed at stories that each of them told. They’d just gotten their respective desserts- a rich, chocolaty death for Isaac and Stiles to share, when Stiles leaned closer to Isaac and mumbled something.

“Hmm?” Isaac hummed, turning his attention from Scott as he shoved a piece of cake into his mouth, his eyes darting over to Stiles. He noticed Stiles’s expression first, the look of complete happiness and adoration in his eyes as he smiled slightly.

“Marry me.” Stiles repeated, the smile curving his lips stretching a little bit.

Isaac stared at him with a fork hanging out of his mouth, the entire table quieting down to stare at the two of them since they’d heard what Stiles had said.

“Really?” Isaac asked, his heart beat pounding so loud he could barely hear anything else.

Stiles reached into his blazer’s pocket and pulled out a little velvet box, the grin on his face breathtaking. “Isaac, Marry me?” He asked, popping the little box open to show a white gold band nestled into the silk cushion.

“Uh…” Isaac stared at the ring a little dumbly for a moment before he felt the two of a shoe digging into his shin. His eyes darted across the table where Melissa was sitting, tears shining in her eyes, and he snapped out of his stupor. Snapping his eyes back to Stiles, Isaac beamed at him, “of course. Yes. I.. Yes!” 

He laughed softly as Stiles pulled the ring from the box and slid it onto Isaac’s finger. They met in the middle, their kiss more teeth than lips since the two of them were smiling too much for it to really count as a kiss. Isaac didn’t really care, though, considering that they were surrounded by the happy crooning cheers of the friends and family.

 

**Seven Years Later**

The ceremony had been absolutely beautiful. Scott had stood up for Stiles, Cora for Isaac. John had had tears in his eyes throughout the entire thing. Stiles had cried as he stood up at the altar with Isaac, but he hadn’t cared if their guests had seen. It’d been the happiest day of Stiles’s life, marrying Isaac. He’d even managed to get through the vows (that’d he’d written all by himself, thank you very much) without stuttering too much.

They’d laughed and danced and drank and ate the marvelous cake. They’d taken pictures and talked to their guests, and then they’d ran off to the car waiting outside to take them off to the airport for their honeymoon.

They may or may not have joined the mile high club as they flew off to London.

They totally joined the mile high club.

Who was Stiles kidding.

When they’d reached their hotel in London, Stiles hadn’t wasted any time getting Isaac out of his clothes. They’d barely had time to lock the door before Stiles was on him, kissing every inch of exposed skin that he could- until he stripped Isaac of his clothing and created more space to kiss.

It may or may not have been a blur up until the point where Stiles sank down onto Isaac’s cock, his legs on either side of Isaac’s hips as he started up a steady rhythm that would drive both of them crazy. Stiles knew that Isaac loved it when he got to sit back and let Stiles do what he wanted, so Stiles took full advantage as he rode Isaac until they were both coming apart.

And the best part? They had two weeks to do whatever the hell they wanted while in London. And a little over half of Stiles wouldn’t have been disappointed if they stayed in bed for all of that time.

 

**Ten years Later**

Stiles moved groggily through the house, bumping into a few walls by the time that he’d made it into the room he was aiming for. He’d woken up alone in bed, feeling the spot where Isaac should have been cold and empty. But upon reaching the doorway, Stiles blinked the sleep from his eyes as he looked into the room, spotting his husband with the small bundle swaddled in his arms, fast asleep as Isaac stared down at him.

It felt like a balloon swelling in his chest to see Isaac staring adoringly down at their son. They’d adopted him five days before, but it had been love at first sight. Stiles knew that nothing could ever feel like this, seeing the love of his life holding the other love of his life- except maybe if the child was biologically theirs. But, adoption was the very next best thing, and Stiles couldn’t get over how happy he was at that moment.

“Zac,” Stiles whispered, moving into the door after having stood leaning against the doorway for far too long. “Come back to bed, baby.”

He moved over to lean over the back of the chair Isaac was sitting in, peering over his shoulder down at the adorable scrunchy face of their son, Johnathon.

“I can’t, I want to hold him forever,” Isaac whispered back, a grin crinkling his eyes as he looked down at him, moving a finger to brush his finger tip down the length of the baby’s face.

“I know you do, baby, but… you need to sleep too.” Stiles chuckled, grinning as well. He leaned down to press his lips to the mass of unruly curls on top of Isaac’s head, still flat in spaces where he’d had his head on the pillow before.

“I know,” Isaac mumbled, voice a little sad. After another moment, Isaac moved to get up, turning carefully so that Stiles could lean down and brush a kiss to Johnathon’s forehead before he turned and placed the small little bundle back into the crib.

“C’mon, babe.” Stiles grinned, stepping over to Isaac and wrapping an arm around his waist to tug him out of the room.

Once they reached their room, Stiles pushed Isaac down onto the bed and crawled on top of him, pressing a series of feather light kisses to his lips before he shifted and got comfortable, lying half of top of Isaac, who’s arms were wrapped around him.

“I love you so much, y’know that?” Stiles mumbled sleepily, nuzzling his cheek against Isaac’s chest.

“Even after all this time? After crazy college years and now that we have a baby?”

“Yeah, baby. Always.” Stiles lifted his head to look at Isaac with sleepy eyes. “S’always been you, Zac. Always will.”

“Love you too, Stiles.” Isaac grinned, lifting his head to press his lips to Stiles’s lightly.

“mm, I know. Go to sleep. I’m making waffles in the morning.” Stiles mumbled, dropping his head back down to Isaac’s chest.

“Waffles are just pancakes with abs,” Isaac mumbled, shifting his arm around Stiles’s shoulders.

Stiles was quiet for a second before he started laughing, having to turn his face into Isaac’s chest to muffle the sounds so that he wouldn’t wake Johnathon up.

“ Jesus fu—Goddammit, I love you.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Still Into You Fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118387) by [Sinlesschick6](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinlesschick6/pseuds/Sinlesschick6)




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